Ceci n'est pas un blog

I just finished reading The Night Buffalo by Guillermo Arriaga. He wrote the screenplays for the movies Amores Perros, 21 Grams, and Babel all directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu. He also wrote the Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada directed by Tommy Lee Jones.

I have heard that Arriaga and Iñárritu have had a bit of a falling out and Babel completes their collaboration. It isn't out here yet, but I'm looking forward to it as the themes of how we communicate or fail to across cultures, languages, generations, and other barriers is intriguing. And relevant to expat life.

But this little book (yes, a film version is already in post-production) didn't grab me quite the way 21 Grams did. It feels somehow incomplete. I have childhood memories of Mexico City, of the Reforma, Chapultapec Park, the Sanborns, places in the novel. But he doesn't evoke them, he just names them. For someone with no experience of Mexico City, the Reforma is just a street name rather than the major central artery with broad medians, historic buildings, insane traffic, and the angel, high on her pillar, looking down on it all. Arriaga seems impatient to tell his story. It's all "I drove aimlessly for some time. I stopped and bought some cigarettes. It was late but I drove to Tania's house."

After Arundhati Roy's long languid descriptions and deep sense of place, this spartan story could just as easily have taken place in almost any city at almost any time in the past 30 years. The plot involves two young men, now in college and best friends for most of their lives. In the wake of Gregorio's suicide Manuel begins receiving letters and packages from him. These photos and lyrics, and dead insects all make it clear that Gregorio knew Manuel was having an affair with his girlfried all while Gregorio was in and out of mental institutions for deep delusional schizophrenia.

Who is sending Gregorio's messages from beyond the grave? How deeply do Tania and Manuel really love each other? How many recreational sex partners can Manuel have? Is the hurt caused by a loved ones madness be less painful than the hurt caused by irrational callousness? In some ways Manuel is like the main character in the Stranger but his violence, both emotional and physical, seems to grow out of his boredom and his privilege more than from his grief.

It's not a book I would widely recommend and I'm not convinced the translation does him justice, although I can't be sure. The friendship between the boys, they way view sex, their class, and education, and families make them near doppelgangers for the main characters in Y tu mamá también but with an overlay of schizophenia and existential angst.

Next on my nightstand is The Best of McSweeney's 2. If you aren't familiar with it, McSweeney's is the odd but prestigious literary journal founded by Dave Eggers in the wake of his success with A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, which I haven't read. In any case, it will be good to jump into collection of short stories and essays, maybe my favorite format. I'm especially looking forward to it since Eggars'es introduction really is brilliant and quite funny, sets a good tone right out of the gate.