Monday, September 24, 2012

Roberto Bolano's Savage Detectives: Book Review

The Savage Detectives: A Review

by Armando Ortiz

In his famous novel The Savage Detectives, Roberto Bolano sheds light into the lives of many Spanish speaking poets that make up the worlds of Arturo Belano and Ulyses Lima’s circle of friends and acquaintances. These two main characters embark on several journeys that parallel the experiences of those in the Odyssey and in a way resemble the young and adventurous life of Arthur Ribaud, who despite the works he produced at a young age decided on a life in the African frontier, working as an arms dealer, adventurer and desperado. The presence of Pynchon’s Slothrop of Gravity’s Rainbow is there as well since he too is on a journey or more like an escape, wandering around the earth in search of something. Bolano describes the youthful experiences of these two poets, and those that form a loose circle of poets called the Visceral Poets.

As he details the lives of Belano and Lima one is taken on a 15 year journey where one sees the vicissitudes of poets that have decided to take on the adventure of life and all its risks. Both of these poets experience love. Separately, they encounter their own rejection. Other times, they share drinks with other poets and desperados. They live the life of vagrant poets that take them throughout Central America, Europe, Israel and Africa. Through their adventures and as time passes they continue to live their lives as wandering barbs, diving into the underworlds of Communist plotters and freedom fighting vagabonds though always keeping a fierce independence, knowing very well that all that is available to them is their freedom and mind.

They come to discover the real rivers of humanity that flow from South America all the way to the borders of the United States that by the 1980’s were becoming more and more intense. The civil wars happening in several countries would eventually make the routes for other illicit activities. They discover that even in tough circumstances poetry can be a common ground for even violent people and artists who the thought of poetry or writing never crosses their mind. They carry that impulse to create within them as does the light that shines in darkness. In the book the real artist can live the life of a thug, and might not be at all linked to a creative group. 

There are various camps of writers and artists in the book but the main group presented is an insignificant speck when compared to the larger camps of writers that existed back in the late-60s in Latin America, and the world at large. In Mexico, there were two large groups of writers, one was supported by the governments which represented the established powers of government with their censorship, and the media that published and made writers famous. The other group was made up of leftist writers and were supported by foreign governments or by a small circle of leftist elite who’d been allowed to have the opposing voice. However, Bolano presents an alternative group-other poets from the lower ends of society, who express themselves with raw sentiments and navigate the world of poverty and struggles. These poets, despite their modest means, make their presence known throughout time. Going against everything that represented money and power, and living out their lives as artists, and crashing literary events that they felt were masked to represent writers that were not talented. Their unsettling sentiments create havoc and chaos to the literary establishment.

The Savage Detectives lacks the violence and is not as dark as 2666 but it definitely demonstrates Bolano’s ability to capture a reader’s imagination and take them on an epic journey. One learns of Lima and Belano via others who have met them and have had conversations with them; poets, revolutionaries, prostitutes, house wives, professors, lawyers, vagabonds, swindlers, editors and cops. Through those descriptions we are able to piece together the rough outlines of two men who decided to be poets. 

Their lives became one epic poem that unfolded with one journey after another, an adventure begun with every ending adventure. We see two young adults dive into their journeys head first and with fists flying. Towards the end of the book these two are mere shadows of who they were and now have to deal with the realities of age, the mind’s exhaustion and the quest for more journeys and adventure. Yet they continue on with their lives in search of that thing that keeps their flicker ignited, that will satiate their thirst for poetry, literature, life and adventure.

The Savage Detectives is a remarkable novel that seamlessly fits within Bolano’s larger-than-life world. Bolano’s skillful use of language creates a palpable texture in his writing, immersing readers in vivid imagery. It is evident that Bolano aimed to create a lasting work of literature. Moreover, his profound understanding of the power of the Spanish language allowed him to captivate the imaginations of readers within Spanish-speaking communities, while also introducing readers from different backgrounds, different nations and language, to a world that might have remained hidden in plain sight.





Tuesday, September 11, 2012

A Drive to the Coast: Part 7


Part 7: Dawn Awakes

by Armando Ortiz

Sculptures create artificial shadows where white plaster bodies and papier-mâché skulls animate themselves under the bonfire and painted murals transform into the plastered walls of sacrificial ball courts.

Everyone embarking on the night’s journey rowing Mayan canoes of brown mahogany

They kick comets from here to yonder. Heads roll to their destiny.

Charon leading the procession of pasty white skeletons

Souls crossing lakes where caiman float prancing through valleys of spears swiftly hopping through old growth forests like jack rabbits that disappear into the chaos of nature’s pulse.

Persephone greeting the agonies of people whose journey continues to drown rivers, and we speak to screaming spider monkeys.

Peace is found inside Tibetan skulls that are traded at midnight along the trampled caravan roads, and grains are poured out from the heads of pious souls.

Boat burials take us to destinations that are as old as clouds that hover over unknown trails where spotted orcas and elephant seals guide spirits and morning vapors ride the fog of night.

Even after life, our trajectories are clearly uncertain, and the bubbles of our childhood will one day cease to be.

The pitch black pumas of yesterday become the third eye of the rising Huitzilopochtli.

Mocking birds coo their calls, reminding us that this night is not eternal.

The huitzi sounds, and the hum of tiny lustrous birds welcome the morning dawn revival.

A sunrise in pause gleams of morning light approaching, yellow needles piercing the armor of demons, vanishing with buckets of spiraling fire and everything is engulfed by morning’s dawn.

Streets polluted with plastic bottles and trails trampled by rising pedestrians. All is flooded in beige, and contrasted by morning shadows.

We follow the giant green serpent and hide with bushmasters waiting to pounce.

Devouring all under their view under that golden dinar that never loses value.

Purple violets surround opposing yellows in pink and everyone emerges with a stretching pose. The prickly pear cactus sheds a morning drop.

The sun sends thunder in waves repeating the cycle and we ride the ocean of snakes while our mother rides the carp of dawns orange that takes worshiping parties to a day of pleasures and mourning.

We bathe in the amber nectar of gods.


Thursday, September 6, 2012

Laurie Lipton: Artist in Los Angeles


Lauire Lipton, Los Angeles Exhibit
by Armando Ortiz
            A few days ago I visited the Laurie Lipton exhibit being held at the ACE gallery in Los Angeles which is on Wilshire Blvd a few blocks west of La Brea. After decades of living abroad the artist decided to return to the states and make Los Angeles her home. The current exhibit she has on display is superb. Her style and the medium she uses are at the height of any master artist’s abilities. The space where her exhibit is being held is huge, and at times it left like it was an extension of the LACMA.

Her images are amazing and she certainly took a lot of time making the intricate designs come to life. The quality of her work shines through all the bleak subject matter. It shows what American contemporary society and western culture is and brings up questions as to what our realities ought to be. She showcases the daily grind of life, of money making, survival, and the machine that is churning away at our being. Our soul, and death, in this case, time and consumerism, is the all-consuming knitter of reality. Like Goya’s Saturn Devouring His Son that eats all there is, her images also unveil the grotesque that exists in our daily life. Her current exhibit is a critical take on capitalism and modernity with the age old subject of death.
            Quality aside, her take on city life and that of Los Angeles is quite superficial. If what best describes Los Angeles is fake and superficial and one’s existence in Los Angeles correlates with her personal vision then ones reality is truly sad. Nonetheless, that is what her work portrays, a superficial take on the anxieties of a few people in this city. The majority of the people living here hardly have the problem of dressing up in the morning and walking their dog along well-manicured lawns. And though many might be slowly murdering themselves to death by the many plastic surgeries they have and the daily grind that takes place, it does not represent the majority’s experience. She presents something that is and at the same time isn’t, because in reality the death that takes place is usually unknown and her work seems to muffle that reality even more.
            Her topics though they reveal the prevailing anxiety of life in the city are rather bland because there exist death and there exist Death. Death is what everyone has to face and has to come to grips with. On a daily basis there is exploitation in this city, and on a daily basis a type of violence takes place and these are things she refuses to touch on. Her preoccupation with death as the horror at the end of the tunnel and how it ultimately is above time comes through her work. The skulls that emerge from her mind and onto the paper are great, but it’s a reality everyone has to face. Death is a whole different matter when one considers the exploitation of illegal workers, the risk that sex workers face, the violence that gangsters and thugs exercise on their enemies and the random unknown victims that never make it on to the local news. It’s as if she herself is consumed with the idea of consumerism, media and modernity while refusing to touch on justice, love and life.
            She’s a great artist, no doubt about that, but there is something missing. She uses graphite/ pencil to render amazing images that reveals the worst of modern society. The mechanizations behind what we perceive to be reality seems to control the reality that we are experiencing, which at this time of year with the presidential election looming just over the horizon and the media frenzy surrounding really shows that politics are about- image over substance, and showcases our anxieties of our waking life. Yet, where is life in all of this, and what about the other reality? Aside from the “office workers” waking up in the mornings and having their cereal, and the “house wives” walking the isles there are people who are working their tail off and yet are managing to live a life that is worth living. Out of the 24 hours of time that we have in a day only eight are dedicated to work, and another eight are dedicated to sleep and in between all that there is time to spend on hobbies, time with family, listen to music or go to the beach. Her work makes it seem as if everyone in the city lives to work and does not work to live.
            The horror that she experiences in her daily life are not what kids living in the poor neighborhoods experience. Theirs is a more raw reality of what city life is all about, and consumerism, the media, plastic surgeries, white collar office work, and wealth are not a part of their reality. Living in the midst of drug dealers, trannies walking down streets, amongst the general violence and poverty that they experience is a reality that they deal with and yet continue to push through in their life. It makes one wonder if Laurie is living in Los Angeles, the city, or the Los Angeles that is made up of hills, Hollywood stars and lofty lofts that are more like fortresses, because she only reveals a partial slice of a city that is far more complex than she creates on paper. But I am sure that this is not the case, because despite of what she has experienced in this city, she probably has favorite music that she listens to, enjoys a walk by the beach, and finds pleasure being with close friends.
            Nonetheless, there is more to her art, and maybe what isn’t spoken is her ultimate goal. Some of her pieces are very Gustave Dore-esque like her presentation of The Consumption, where a shopper is faced with an endless row of items to purchase. Her skulls are life like, and her images come alive through our own anxieties with death. I certainly work eight hours job, but I also go to school, read books, listen to music, dance, enjoy nature and have moments of bliss. And these things are lacking in her work. It’s as if the grotesque is presented in all its glory, but the missing piece to what truly is real has to be there because there are those that don’t go with the waves that society conjures and certainly do not experience a life the way she makes it out to be.