Hopscotch

Un libro esquivo. Cortázar, en pos de apelar al lector y convertirlo en una suerte de co-autor, demuestra su tremenda generosidad compartiendo con sus lectores tantas digresiones. Estas a muchos les pueden llevar a la desesperanza más absoluta. No obstante, es de agradecer cuando un autor se muestra tan explícitamente compartiendo reflexiones metafísicas, literarias, vivenciales, etc. En algunos sentidos ha envejecido mal, pero su valor literario es incuestionable y la honestidad de Cortázar es loable. Sin lugar a dudas, este se consagra con esta maravillosa novela, contra-novela o como la quieran llamar los eruditos.

To me it seemed pretty obvious that he was basing his book in sexus by Henry Miller: ohhhh I am a big important knowledgeable man, I am racist, misognistic, snobbish and I like it blablabla. It is clear that he is laughing at Argentinian writers that act in the way that his character does, but he does so in a way in which only those people will know that he is laughing at them. Basically , he knows that nobody will understand what he is getting at. So he treats this snob writers as idiots, but at the same time he treats the readers as idiots. I do not like this type of literature, in which the reader is expected to know a lot and read a lot before being able to understand the book. I think literature needs to be accessible, and it is not necessary to create a comboluted story to say something interesting. The name throwing and the references to other works is endless and boring. The misoginy at times is too much for me, and parts of the story make absolutely no sense. I get that the nonsense and the snobbery is forced , but I really don't appreciate it. To sum it up: diuj, meh, blah

Note: I've read this in order until chapter 56. Hopefully more things will stick with me when I revisit this book reading the chapters with the hopscotch approach. (3.5 stars out of 5)