Chilean Poet
Author: Alejandro Zambra
Published by: Granta Books
Pages: 390
Format: Hardback
My Rating: ★★★★★
After a chance encounter at a Santiago nightclub, aspiring poet Gonzalo reunites with his first love, Carla. Though their desire for each other is still intact, much has changed: among other things, Carla has a six-year-old boy, Vicente. Soon the three form a happy sort-of-family.
In time, fate and ambition pull the lovers apart, but still Vicente inherits his ex-stepfather’s love of poetry. When, at eighteen, Vicente meets Pru, an American journalist literally and figuratively lost in Santiago, he encourages her to write about Chilean poets – not the famous kind, your Nerudas or Mistrals or Bolãnos, but rather the living, striving everyday poets.
Pru’s research leads her into this eccentric community – another kind of family, dysfunctional but ultimately loving. But will it also lead Vicente and Gonzalo back to each other?
In time, fate and ambition pull the lovers apart, but still Vicente inherits his ex-stepfather’s love of poetry. When, at eighteen, Vicente meets Pru, an American journalist literally and figuratively lost in Santiago, he encourages her to write about Chilean poets – not the famous kind, your Nerudas or Mistrals or Bolãnos, but rather the living, striving everyday poets.
Pru’s research leads her into this eccentric community – another kind of family, dysfunctional but ultimately loving. But will it also lead Vicente and Gonzalo back to each other?
My thoughts:
Chilean Poet is only the second work I have read by Alejandro Zambra. After recently reading Zambra’s Bonsai, a ninety-page story about lovers of literature, I knew I wanted to read more by this author. His novels are for readers and about readers, especially the ones who cannot resist the urge to write. Zambra gives voice to many lives of his generation of poets and dreamers.
The book opens with reminiscence: “Those were the days of apprehensive mothers, of taciturn fathers, and of burly older brothers, but they were also the days of blankets, of quilts, and of ponchos…” From here the narrator winds through multiple love stories.
At the beginning, we are introduced to Carla and Gonzalo, two teenagers trying to have sex under blankets, quilts, and ponchos to avoid being detected by Carla’s mother. The story takes place a couple of years after the 1988 Chilean national referendum, when Chilean teenagers, along with their parents, were struggling to find their place in their country’s burgeoning democracy.
Gonzalo is a frustrated would-be poet in a city full of poets. Although he diligently pursues his dream, even publishing a book of poems (albeit having to contribute forty percent of the publishing fee), Gonzalo realises one day that he will never truly be a great poet. But what defines a great poet is another question the novel tries to untangle.
Young love dies soon, and at the end of the first section, when an early Zambra novel would typically reach its end, the narrator goes on to explain: “The city of Santiago is big and segregated enough that Carla and Gonzalo could have lost touch forever, but one night, nine years later, they saw each other again, and it’s thanks to that reencounter that this story will grow into enough pages to be considered a novel.”
The story then moves into the future when nine years after their bewildering breakup, Gonzalo reunites with his teen sweetheart, Carla. She is now, to his surprise, the mother of a young son named Vicente.
Gonzalo and Carla, along with Vicente, Carla’s son from her previous relationship, soon form a unit that resembles a family in this novel. They become a happy sort-of family – a stepfamily, though no such word exists in their language.
In time, fate and ambition pull the lovers apart, but when it comes to love and poetry, one can’t help but wonder what will be Gonzalo’s legacy to his not-quite-stepson Vicente? Vicente and Gonzalo both write juvenile verses, but Zambra affords them a dignity and strange beauty that somehow preserves their authenticity.
The characters are individual and complex; their relationships gradually shifting, changing, growing, and fading as the story progresses. Zambra's writing is emotionally captivating, direct, and honest. The straightforward prose and experimental poems all read naturally.
Told with humour and tenderness, Chilean Poet chronicles the everyday moments that make up our personal histories. It is a very warm, heartfelt, and beautiful novel. I’m looking forward to reading more by this author very soon.
Overall reaction:
Chilean Poet is only the second work I have read by Alejandro Zambra. After recently reading Zambra’s Bonsai, a ninety-page story about lovers of literature, I knew I wanted to read more by this author. His novels are for readers and about readers, especially the ones who cannot resist the urge to write. Zambra gives voice to many lives of his generation of poets and dreamers.
The book opens with reminiscence: “Those were the days of apprehensive mothers, of taciturn fathers, and of burly older brothers, but they were also the days of blankets, of quilts, and of ponchos…” From here the narrator winds through multiple love stories.
At the beginning, we are introduced to Carla and Gonzalo, two teenagers trying to have sex under blankets, quilts, and ponchos to avoid being detected by Carla’s mother. The story takes place a couple of years after the 1988 Chilean national referendum, when Chilean teenagers, along with their parents, were struggling to find their place in their country’s burgeoning democracy.
Gonzalo is a frustrated would-be poet in a city full of poets. Although he diligently pursues his dream, even publishing a book of poems (albeit having to contribute forty percent of the publishing fee), Gonzalo realises one day that he will never truly be a great poet. But what defines a great poet is another question the novel tries to untangle.
Young love dies soon, and at the end of the first section, when an early Zambra novel would typically reach its end, the narrator goes on to explain: “The city of Santiago is big and segregated enough that Carla and Gonzalo could have lost touch forever, but one night, nine years later, they saw each other again, and it’s thanks to that reencounter that this story will grow into enough pages to be considered a novel.”
The story then moves into the future when nine years after their bewildering breakup, Gonzalo reunites with his teen sweetheart, Carla. She is now, to his surprise, the mother of a young son named Vicente.
Gonzalo and Carla, along with Vicente, Carla’s son from her previous relationship, soon form a unit that resembles a family in this novel. They become a happy sort-of family – a stepfamily, though no such word exists in their language.
In time, fate and ambition pull the lovers apart, but when it comes to love and poetry, one can’t help but wonder what will be Gonzalo’s legacy to his not-quite-stepson Vicente? Vicente and Gonzalo both write juvenile verses, but Zambra affords them a dignity and strange beauty that somehow preserves their authenticity.
The characters are individual and complex; their relationships gradually shifting, changing, growing, and fading as the story progresses. Zambra's writing is emotionally captivating, direct, and honest. The straightforward prose and experimental poems all read naturally.
Told with humour and tenderness, Chilean Poet chronicles the everyday moments that make up our personal histories. It is a very warm, heartfelt, and beautiful novel. I’m looking forward to reading more by this author very soon.
Overall reaction:
