Nostalgia

Por Mircea Cartarescu

Un tour de force narrativo sorprendente, afrodisíaco, literariamente impactante, de la mano de una de las máximas figuras de las letras europeas actuales.

Nostalgia, la obra que consagró a Mircea Cărtărescu como la voz más potente de las actuales letras rumanas, constituye una auténtica revolución literaria. El volumen, de una calidad prodigiosa, se abre con «El Ruletista», que narra la improbable historia de un hombre al que nunca le ha sonreído la suerte, pero que, sorprendentemente, hace fortuna participando en letales sesiones de ruleta rusa. En «El Mendébil», un mesías impúber de aires proustianos pierde sus poderes mágicos con el advenimiento de su propia sexualidad, y se ve perseguido por una legión de jóvenes acólitos. En «Los gemelos», Cărtărescu se entrega a la bizarra exploración de la ira juvenil, hasta desembocar en la pieza central del libro, «REM», que narra la historia de Nana, una mujer de mediana edad, enamorada de un estudiante de instituto en una Bucarest pesadillesca, enciclopédica, que se eleva a la categoría de ciudad universal.

• Idioma: Español
• Editorial: Impedimenta
• Fecha de lanzamiento: 9 jun 2015
• ISBN: 9788415979739

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Comentarios para Nostalgia

[girlunderglass · Calificación: 4 de 5 estrellas]

This train ride is bleak. I'm high up in the air and I can see ..why, I can see the whole of the world, it seems. But it just doesn't feel exciting, not yet, but I'm still loving it, this feeling like I'm spying on something, seeing something I shouldn't be able to see at all. It feels more like a ride underground than on top of the world - it's so gray right now, if you know what I mean. The train moves slowly upwards, all sound is extinguished and there is no breath of wind to cool off the T-shirt stuck to my sweaty skin. No, there's something wrong - this doesn't feel like an amusement park. Everything is just too weird and slo-whoa! What just happened there? What? Who said that? Oh, it's You. I wasn't sure if you were going to show up. Some writers do, you know, but others find it intrusive. But you want to guide me. You're telling me to prepare myself. Prepare myself because the ride is going to begin and then it's going to drive me crazy - wit pleasure, with sadness, with nostalgia, you don't know. Can't tell. It's up to me. You tell me you will try to show, try to make me understand. But you have tears in your eyes. "You would like to turn the reader's heart inside out" - you growl - "and what does he do? At three he's done with your book, at four he takes up another - no matter how great the book you placed in his hands."The sign ahead says "First Chapter: The Roulette Player" and the train keeps moving. Slow. Chug-a-chug-a-chug-a-chug. And then I see it. I see that the train has reached its peak going upwards and that in one blink of an eye it will start speeding downwards, laughing and choo-chooing and acting all crazy - a long mad worm doing somersaults through the air - but it still takes me by surprise when it does. I didn't think it would happen this way, like this, so wild-wild-wild and oh my God it feels wonderful! And even when it slows down - every time it slows down and I start getting bored - I think of you, and I remember what you said. What you said about wanting to rip my heart out and I feel guilty for pages I'm skimming, even skipping, for the pages slipping away, getting me closer to the end of the book. I've enjoyed the ride but you haven't done it yet, no, and you so wanted to and just when I think "it's too late, it's almost three o'clock" the last sign comes up ahead announcing the last chapter "The Architect". And I give into it one more time and this time - yes! - this time you rip my heart out with one quick move, one quick final story about the creation of the Universe, a sci-fi story as weird and unlikely as it is wonderful. And man, I'm so glad you had a chance to do it because it's almost four now - time for a new book.