Difícil de clasificar, pequeno diario no que autora conta historias sobre pintores e mezcladas coas súas propias historias personais. Un libro con encanto que remata con interesantes pensamentos sobre a vida, a enfermidade e a morte. ( )

This book had so much potential. I loved the idea of it. An art lover in Buenos Aires reveals aspects of her own life through her relationship to art. Her story is interwoven with anecdotal tales of the artists that are meaningful to her.

I just finished, and really wavered between 3 and 4 stars, but in the end had to settle upon three.

My art background is nil, but I actually loved the anecdotal stories about the artists. It would have been great if the book had been illustrated, but it didn't really matter as I felt the descriptions were enough. A less lazy reader can google all the works and that might add another dimension to their enjoyment of the book.

Where I'm a little less enthusiastic is whether the main character/narrator was really developed enough. At first, I felt the book was working. We learn of her relationship with her mother being difficult. She speaks of her unusual marriage. But as the book progressed, I felt she became less known to me as opposed to more. I just had too many unanswered questions about her, and at the end, I didn't really feel anything when she ultimately falls ill. The emotional impact was just lacking for me, but the stories of the artists were educational and intriguing. I felt like I learned a lot from this short novel about a subject where my knowledge is very limited.

Glad I read it, and I would recommend it (especially to those interested in art), but it felt more like short stories (which I do love) than a novel to me . . . ( )

Genial Rotho y otros ( )

María Gaínza, crítica de arte atípica y escritora por necesidad, escribió esta joyita de 160 páginas que parece toda ella una frivolidad de ociosa pero que para nada acaba siendo.
Para tocar el corazón de la realidad había que deformarla, y en esa declaración de intenciones se basa la propuesta, sólo que no sabemos cuál es la realidad y cuál su deformación. Gaínza utiliza la vida y obra de once pintores para contarnos a su familia, pero a veces la cosa parece al revés, que utiliza sus historias personales y familiares para hablarnos de arte.
Da la impresión en todo caso que la autora ha recopilado toda la información que tiene en su cabeza sobre arte, literatura y algo de historia de andar por casa, y la ha resumido en estas 160 páginas, con la seguridad de quién se sabe la lección perfectamente y con un manejo del lenguaje, que la convierte en la reina de las metáforas, todo ello sin despeinarse ni un pelo. Mal administrada, se dice en el libro, la historia del arte puede ser letal como la estricnina, pero si te la cuentan con este desparpajo, se convierte en tu asignatura favorita.
Entre las citas que contiene la obrita, hay una de Cézanne que resume perfectamente este librito: “Lo grandioso acaba por cansar. Hay montañas que, cuando uno está delante, te hacen gritar ¡me cago en Dios! Pero para el día a día con un simple cerro hay de sobra.” Pues eso, que una joyita.
( )

This was neat, just sparklingly different from anything else I've read in a while. It's at least somewhat autofiction—the narrator, also named María, is an art critic in Buenos Aires, as is the author, and she's said in interviews that there are some overlaps with her life, but only some. Whatever the case, the book is a really well done set of very loosely linked chapters that take off from the idea of how looking at art, and thinking about it, intertwines with a person's life (and often changes it). She's a very good art critic to begin with, so her thoughts on the artists who are part of her stories—from Rothko and El Greco through more obscure and local painters—are really interesting, but also very accessible. There's also a very sub-subtext that caught my eye as a writer and researcher, which is where and how do you get to depart from the record and start building your own story? She's obviously researched these artists very closely, but there are also wonderful textural details about their lives that she could have totally woven in herself. Or not—I was toggling back and forth in Wikipedia and WikiArt to look at the pictures and artists Gainza was talking about, but at a certain point I (and probably most readers) will just sit back and take the narrative on faith, so those authorial nuances are always fascinating to me.

Anyway, if you like looking at art and thinking about it past the moment when you're standing in front of the canvas, this is a lot of fun. Very fresh, I thought. And the translation, by Thomas Bunstead, is excellent. ( )