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Paradais
Inside a luxury housing complex, two misfit teenagers sneak around and get drunk. Franco Andrade, lonely, overweight, and addicted to porn, obsessively fantasizes about seducing his neighbor - an attractive married woman and mother - while Polo dreams about quitting his gruelling job as a gardener within the gated community and fleeing his overbearing mother and their narco-controlled village. Each facing the impossibility of getting what he thinks he deserves, Franco and Polo hatch a mindless and macabre scheme. Written in a chilling torrent of prose by one of our most thrilling new writers, Paradais explores the explosive fragility of Mexican society - with its racist, classist, hyperviolent tendencies - and how the myths, desires, and hardships of teenagers can tear life apart at the seams.
118 pages, Paperback
First published February 2, 2021
About the author
Fernanda Melchor
9 books3,605 followersNací en el puerto de Veracruz. Escribí el libro de crónicas Aquí no es Miami y las novelas Falsa liebre, Temporada de huracanes y Páradais.
I was born in Veracruz, Mexico. I wrote the non-fiction book Aquí no es Miami and the novels Falsa liebre, Temporada de huracanes y Paradais.
I was born in Veracruz, Mexico. I wrote the non-fiction book Aquí no es Miami and the novels Falsa liebre, Temporada de huracanes y Paradais.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,406 reviews
April 12, 2023
Now Shortlisted for Dublin Literary Prize 2023
Longlisted for Booker Prize International 2022. Missed the shortlist.
Translated from Spanish by Sophie Hughes
3.5 rounded up because it is Fernanda Melchor.
I finished the last 30 pages of the short novel this morning which meant that I was late for work. Well, I could not just leave without knowing the tragic and violent fate the author prepared for her characters.
The setting is different from her 1st novel. This time, we are transported to Paradise, pronounced “Paradais”, a luxury housing complex. Franco is an obese, lonely kid living in the complex with his rich grandparents while Polo is the gardener. Franco becomes obsessed with his neighbour, the wife of a TV celebrity and fantasises of ways to seduce her. On the other hand, France dreams to escape his poor village life, his nagging mother and his pregnant sex obsessed cousin. By chance, the two start drinking together and during the time reluctantly spent in each other’s company they start to plan a scheme which could give them what they want.
It is Melchor so the novel is brutal, violent and the language is dirty. The prose comes as a torrent of words, long sentences that spit the worse of humanity on the white pages, like the blood gushing from a wound.
Hurricane Season (review here) was my favourite book of 2020 and you can imagine how much I was looking forward to reading the follow up. Maybe it is no surprise I was a bit underwhelmed. In addition, it is hard to measure up to the level of horrid perfection that sums up what that novel was for me. After some consideration, I think there are two elements that failed in this novel. Firstly, except for the last 30 pages, Paradais did not grip me. I did not feel the sick urge to turn the page with the horror and excitement I felt with the 1st novel. Secondly, the novel lacked the surreal atmosphere of the 1st novel. The author tried to introduce it via the haunted mansion but it did not work out, at least in my opinion.
The novel is worth reading if you like Fernanda Melchor’s style. I am still terribly excited to read everything else she writes.
Longlisted for Booker Prize International 2022. Missed the shortlist.
Translated from Spanish by Sophie Hughes
3.5 rounded up because it is Fernanda Melchor.
I finished the last 30 pages of the short novel this morning which meant that I was late for work. Well, I could not just leave without knowing the tragic and violent fate the author prepared for her characters.
The setting is different from her 1st novel. This time, we are transported to Paradise, pronounced “Paradais”, a luxury housing complex. Franco is an obese, lonely kid living in the complex with his rich grandparents while Polo is the gardener. Franco becomes obsessed with his neighbour, the wife of a TV celebrity and fantasises of ways to seduce her. On the other hand, France dreams to escape his poor village life, his nagging mother and his pregnant sex obsessed cousin. By chance, the two start drinking together and during the time reluctantly spent in each other’s company they start to plan a scheme which could give them what they want.
It is Melchor so the novel is brutal, violent and the language is dirty. The prose comes as a torrent of words, long sentences that spit the worse of humanity on the white pages, like the blood gushing from a wound.
Hurricane Season (review here) was my favourite book of 2020 and you can imagine how much I was looking forward to reading the follow up. Maybe it is no surprise I was a bit underwhelmed. In addition, it is hard to measure up to the level of horrid perfection that sums up what that novel was for me. After some consideration, I think there are two elements that failed in this novel. Firstly, except for the last 30 pages, Paradais did not grip me. I did not feel the sick urge to turn the page with the horror and excitement I felt with the 1st novel. Secondly, the novel lacked the surreal atmosphere of the 1st novel. The author tried to introduce it via the haunted mansion but it did not work out, at least in my opinion.
The novel is worth reading if you like Fernanda Melchor’s style. I am still terribly excited to read everything else she writes.
April 1, 2021
Todo pasó muy rápido! Es una gran narradora la Fernanda, soy fan, aunque esta historia me parece horrible, como de mala onda y desagradable, pero contada con una rapidez que no te deja parar, tensión de principio a fin. Pero no puedo decir que me gustó, aunque me lo devoré, así que me quedo con sentimientos encontrados.
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April 26, 2022
Longlisted for the International Booker Prize 2022
What in the name of wordsmithing have I just read? Heart/pulse/breathing quickening simultaneously as I attempt to integrate into my existence the factual reality of having read – all the while transfixed – this explosive, disturbing, and propulsive narrative by Mexican writer Fernanda Melchor, who is clearly intent on jolting the literary world with her arresting literature of despair.
Paradais is one rambling outburst – between tirade, rant, free-flowing rage and streams of swearing. The narrator is sixteen-year-old Polo: a Mexican misfit expelled from school, addicted to drink, and forced into getting a job – at the Paradais development – by his abusive mother whose daily morning routine, as it seems, consists of reminding Polo that he is ‘a waste of space’ and ‘who do you think you are?’, whilst slapping him to her heart’s content and pocketing the entirety of his income in the process. What’s more, following his loving grandfather’s passing – his only source of hope and light – Polo has nothing and no-one to turn to. His hateful, ‘oversexed pervert’ – note the misogyny – and ‘predacious spider’ of a cousin, Zorayda, has taken over his bed – because she got herself pregnant (by him, no less) and has nowhere to go, either. On the other hand, his other cousin Milton, who is more like a brother to him, has disappeared: kidnapped, as he finds out, by the area’s narco-trafficking clans, and is now at their behest, having to commit all sorts of crimes to save his own skin.
It is no wonder, therefore, that Polo gets implicated in the insane cogitations and fantasies of ‘fatboy’ booze-offering Franco, who has recently made a ‘clusterfuck’ at school, essentially lives on porn, and is utterly consumed by his ‘demented pubescent passion’ and obsession with the ‘eye-catching’ Señora Marián. His mission in life is to get her – a married woman with kids – to have sex with him (to put it mildly). While Polo’s is to extricate himself from the miserable world that is closing in on him. But at what price? And what does he hope to achieve?
The thing is, Polo knows nothing but despair. And despair breeds delusions. Throughout the narrative, he does nothing but ‘wander aimlessly’, both physically and mentally. You could say that he is destitute. Drink – and his daily intake of pain-relieving aspirin – appears to be the only way for him to survive what is unequivocally an unbearable, hollowed-out existence. (The absolute antithesis of paradise, of course, though the construction of the gated 'development' is in fact a tired, failed attempt to obstruct the infiltration of order-annihilating violence.)
The narrative itself develops as an ‘incoherent monologue’, replicating Polo’s compulsive thoughts and incorporating – via his own streams of consciousness – the other characters’ merging yet distinctive streams. With every return to his unilateral preoccupations, additional storyline snippets come through. It could be said that sentences are likewise embroiled in the violence, madness, smothering sequencing of events and troubled, obsessive ruminations; becoming progressively darker, themselves completely unhinged. The narrative, thus, closing in on itself.
This is a worn-out world – the rugged Mexican landscape – in which myths (the backdrop of ‘Bloody Countess’ Mansion) spill over into the characters’ delusional meanderings, with senseless violence engulfing all else; permeating every aspect of their being and unfulfilled, unredeemable existence. The level of contextual brutality – ranging from abuse, rape, bullying, and murder, to alcoholism, drugs and sex addiction – is compounded by overly explicit and obscene language that stops at nothing, driven as it is by the imperative to capture the coarse reality from within. Sheer visual and linguistic violence such as this is not a common occurrence in literature. It is certainly surprising, disconcerting, also bordering on the disgusting, at times (deliberately so, of course). But it is constitutive of the brilliance of Melchor’s writing.
What to expect: a 6-page long, agonising, violently flawless sentence that redefines human madness and makes for an unforgettable moment of literary genius.
4.5 stars. This is an absolutely compelling read from a Latin American writer who has attitude, energy, and vision. Highly recommended to keen readers of literary fiction!
What in the name of wordsmithing have I just read? Heart/pulse/breathing quickening simultaneously as I attempt to integrate into my existence the factual reality of having read – all the while transfixed – this explosive, disturbing, and propulsive narrative by Mexican writer Fernanda Melchor, who is clearly intent on jolting the literary world with her arresting literature of despair.
Paradais is one rambling outburst – between tirade, rant, free-flowing rage and streams of swearing. The narrator is sixteen-year-old Polo: a Mexican misfit expelled from school, addicted to drink, and forced into getting a job – at the Paradais development – by his abusive mother whose daily morning routine, as it seems, consists of reminding Polo that he is ‘a waste of space’ and ‘who do you think you are?’, whilst slapping him to her heart’s content and pocketing the entirety of his income in the process. What’s more, following his loving grandfather’s passing – his only source of hope and light – Polo has nothing and no-one to turn to. His hateful, ‘oversexed pervert’ – note the misogyny – and ‘predacious spider’ of a cousin, Zorayda, has taken over his bed – because she got herself pregnant (by him, no less) and has nowhere to go, either. On the other hand, his other cousin Milton, who is more like a brother to him, has disappeared: kidnapped, as he finds out, by the area’s narco-trafficking clans, and is now at their behest, having to commit all sorts of crimes to save his own skin.
It is no wonder, therefore, that Polo gets implicated in the insane cogitations and fantasies of ‘fatboy’ booze-offering Franco, who has recently made a ‘clusterfuck’ at school, essentially lives on porn, and is utterly consumed by his ‘demented pubescent passion’ and obsession with the ‘eye-catching’ Señora Marián. His mission in life is to get her – a married woman with kids – to have sex with him (to put it mildly). While Polo’s is to extricate himself from the miserable world that is closing in on him. But at what price? And what does he hope to achieve?
The thing is, Polo knows nothing but despair. And despair breeds delusions. Throughout the narrative, he does nothing but ‘wander aimlessly’, both physically and mentally. You could say that he is destitute. Drink – and his daily intake of pain-relieving aspirin – appears to be the only way for him to survive what is unequivocally an unbearable, hollowed-out existence. (The absolute antithesis of paradise, of course, though the construction of the gated 'development' is in fact a tired, failed attempt to obstruct the infiltration of order-annihilating violence.)
The narrative itself develops as an ‘incoherent monologue’, replicating Polo’s compulsive thoughts and incorporating – via his own streams of consciousness – the other characters’ merging yet distinctive streams. With every return to his unilateral preoccupations, additional storyline snippets come through. It could be said that sentences are likewise embroiled in the violence, madness, smothering sequencing of events and troubled, obsessive ruminations; becoming progressively darker, themselves completely unhinged. The narrative, thus, closing in on itself.
This is a worn-out world – the rugged Mexican landscape – in which myths (the backdrop of ‘Bloody Countess’ Mansion) spill over into the characters’ delusional meanderings, with senseless violence engulfing all else; permeating every aspect of their being and unfulfilled, unredeemable existence. The level of contextual brutality – ranging from abuse, rape, bullying, and murder, to alcoholism, drugs and sex addiction – is compounded by overly explicit and obscene language that stops at nothing, driven as it is by the imperative to capture the coarse reality from within. Sheer visual and linguistic violence such as this is not a common occurrence in literature. It is certainly surprising, disconcerting, also bordering on the disgusting, at times (deliberately so, of course). But it is constitutive of the brilliance of Melchor’s writing.
What to expect: a 6-page long, agonising, violently flawless sentence that redefines human madness and makes for an unforgettable moment of literary genius.
4.5 stars. This is an absolutely compelling read from a Latin American writer who has attitude, energy, and vision. Highly recommended to keen readers of literary fiction!
March 30, 2023
Now Shortlisted for the Dublin Literary Award 2023
Nominated for the International Booker Prize 2022
This disturbing text packs a real punch: Set in the author's native Mexico, Melchor's narrator is 16-year-old Polo, a school drop-out who works as a gardener in a luxury residential complex called "Paradise" - when his boss teaches him how to pronounce it, he says "Paradais", hence the title. In Spanish, "paradise" would be "paraíso", but the place is indeed not a haven for the average Spanish-speaking person, but the golden few who can afford living in this fancy area with the "gringo" name (as Polo puts it). Our narrator feels exploited and humiliated by his work, so in the evenings, he meets up with blonde, rich outsider Franco, and they get drunk by the slimely-green water at the outskirts of Paradais, trying to numb their senses to their dull, hopeless lives.
This set-up usually suggests that the two who don't belong in the glitzy world of the rich and famous are the good ones, the ones to identify with, the ones down on their luck. But is this true? Both Polo and Franco are extremely mysogynistic, cruel and dangerous: Incel Franco (whom Polo only calls "the fat one", but the bodyshaming is the smallest transgression here) openly dreams about violently raping a neighbor, Polo (wrongly?) slut-shames his pregnant cousin, ponders joining a gang, and despises Franco while drinking on his dime. As the outside pressure on each one of them mounts, they hatch a sinister plan...
It wouldn't be wrong to say that Melchor writes about the state of Mexican society - especially the wealth gap and gang violence - but it would be to easy to read the text as strict social criticism, because Polo and Franco do have a degree of agency, and they use it in the worst way possible. While Franco seems fatalistic and maybe even suicidal, Polo denies all accountability for his actions and always blames others. They have the naivete of teenagers (and they are mere teenagers!), but the potential for violence of hardened criminals, and it remains unclear in how far the haze of alcohol and their inexperience contribute to their failure to properly understand their own deeds. The ending underlines once more that Polo is an extremely unreliable narrator.
This short book fascinates with a language that takes its power from the hate it breathes. It is unsettling to read, and the crowd that always longs for "sympathetic characters to identify with" should seriously skip this one and go back to Paulo Coelho or something, because "Paradais" is absolutely relentless. To be in Polo's head is suffocating and disorienting, and the whole construction of the story and the effects it achieves are great. Melchor is not here to play, and she is not here to pander to the expectations of readers - which is why the ending works so well.
You can listen to my interview with Frank Wynne, jury president of the International Booker 2022, here.
Nominated for the International Booker Prize 2022
This disturbing text packs a real punch: Set in the author's native Mexico, Melchor's narrator is 16-year-old Polo, a school drop-out who works as a gardener in a luxury residential complex called "Paradise" - when his boss teaches him how to pronounce it, he says "Paradais", hence the title. In Spanish, "paradise" would be "paraíso", but the place is indeed not a haven for the average Spanish-speaking person, but the golden few who can afford living in this fancy area with the "gringo" name (as Polo puts it). Our narrator feels exploited and humiliated by his work, so in the evenings, he meets up with blonde, rich outsider Franco, and they get drunk by the slimely-green water at the outskirts of Paradais, trying to numb their senses to their dull, hopeless lives.
This set-up usually suggests that the two who don't belong in the glitzy world of the rich and famous are the good ones, the ones to identify with, the ones down on their luck. But is this true? Both Polo and Franco are extremely mysogynistic, cruel and dangerous: Incel Franco (whom Polo only calls "the fat one", but the bodyshaming is the smallest transgression here) openly dreams about violently raping a neighbor, Polo (wrongly?) slut-shames his pregnant cousin, ponders joining a gang, and despises Franco while drinking on his dime. As the outside pressure on each one of them mounts, they hatch a sinister plan...
It wouldn't be wrong to say that Melchor writes about the state of Mexican society - especially the wealth gap and gang violence - but it would be to easy to read the text as strict social criticism, because Polo and Franco do have a degree of agency, and they use it in the worst way possible. While Franco seems fatalistic and maybe even suicidal, Polo denies all accountability for his actions and always blames others. They have the naivete of teenagers (and they are mere teenagers!), but the potential for violence of hardened criminals, and it remains unclear in how far the haze of alcohol and their inexperience contribute to their failure to properly understand their own deeds. The ending underlines once more that Polo is an extremely unreliable narrator.
This short book fascinates with a language that takes its power from the hate it breathes. It is unsettling to read, and the crowd that always longs for "sympathetic characters to identify with" should seriously skip this one and go back to Paulo Coelho or something, because "Paradais" is absolutely relentless. To be in Polo's head is suffocating and disorienting, and the whole construction of the story and the effects it achieves are great. Melchor is not here to play, and she is not here to pander to the expectations of readers - which is why the ending works so well.
You can listen to my interview with Frank Wynne, jury president of the International Booker 2022, here.
February 21, 2021
No diré que Melchor es una escritora normalita, porque evidentemente su habilidad sintáctica y su precisión léxica están por encima del escritor mexicano medio. El libro se va como agua, la prosa es ágil y entretenida, incluso saca una que otra risa por momentos. Mi principal problema es uno de los porqués de esa notable "rapidez" creada por medio de innumerables oraciones largas y sinuosas que no otorgan muchos puntos dónde detener la lectura (más allá de los 3 finales de capítulo). A grandes rasgos, la meta aparente del estilo desbocado del libro es lograr la inmersión del lector en el pensamiento del Polo, una especie de stream-of-consciousness modernista donde sintamos la rabia, la impotencia y la falta de control del protagonista, un joven desposeído no sólo por la pobreza, sino por los efectos de diversas violencias de diferentes escalas y colores (económica, psicológica, criminal o de género) las cuales carcomen su ser y sus espacios, dejándolo en una espiral de soledad que sólo llenan a ratos el alcohol y los recuerdos de su abuelo y su primo, ejemplos de masculinidad que se han desvanecido de su vida.
El problema es que todo eso suena muy bien, pero la novela no se decide de lleno a habitar la consciencia donde se centra. La prosa pretende operar en la perspectiva de una persona marginada sin renunciar al lenguaje "correcto", neutro y por momentos académico de unx escritorx clasemedierx y de escuelita. En el falso stream-of-consciousness de Páradais se combinan abundantes "pinche", "puto" y "al chile" con florituras descriptivas o adverbiales como "le parecía francamente pavoroso" o "el murmullo de la lluvia a su alrededor y los susurros provenientes de la casona a sus espaldas... se apagaron a su alrededor, etc., etc". (Sí, dice "a su alrededor" dos veces). En fin, que no se entiende si las palabras que leemos vienen de Polo o de una voz escritural ambigua, casi antropológica, con la que Melchor trata de estudiar a un joven de clase baja como si fuera un bicho en el microscopio; trata de comprenderlo no para darle voz en sus propios términos, sino para redactar un reporte "bien escrito" sobre su existencia y regresar acá, a la burbuja burguesa de la civilización citadina, y vendérselo con la etiqueta de "crítica social" a las parvadas de académicos, reseñistas y gente culta que la han puesto en el candelero.
He visto gente (aunque no es mucha y suelen hablar en grupitos secretos o en voz baja) decir que Melchor "utiliza" o "se apropia" del dolor ajeno para el lucimiento propio. Yo no he leído sus otras novelas aún, así que no puedo ofrecer una generalización tan descarada, pero creo que algo del problema me resulta visible en Páradais. Hay una diferencia entre escribir algo y escribir sobre algo, y me queda la sensación de que Melchor hace lo segundo. Que la vida en México y en cualquier otro feudo del capitalismo-desastre es absurdamente desigual; que las clases bajas viven en la humillación de servir a patrones que los tratan como autómatas invisibles; que el narcotráfico ha raído y teñido de rojo los espacios de la vida común en México; que la existencia masculina sufre bajo el peso de una ira y una frustración impotentes, que a menudo se desbordan en violencia de género o se fugan a la criminalidad; todo esto ya lo sabemos. Todos hemos visto Amores perros o Parasite o leído el periódico. ¿Y luego? ¿Dónde está la disrupción en repetirlo de nuevo?
¿Qué tanto aporta una novela social que sigue viendo al oprimido como un objeto de estudio o un peón narrativo antes que un agente vivo, con su propia voz, su propia lengua y su propia mente? ¿Acaso pretender entrar en el horror del clasismo y de la vida marginal en México a través de un libro como este --convencional, lineal, recatado, lleno de tropos de géneros establecidos, bien puntuado y acentuado, que no confronta al lector burgués con ningún reto ni con una voz realmente otra-- no es un poco como ir al zoológico y pensar que se conoce la selva?
(reseña completa en https://revistamarabunta.net/paradais... )
El problema es que todo eso suena muy bien, pero la novela no se decide de lleno a habitar la consciencia donde se centra. La prosa pretende operar en la perspectiva de una persona marginada sin renunciar al lenguaje "correcto", neutro y por momentos académico de unx escritorx clasemedierx y de escuelita. En el falso stream-of-consciousness de Páradais se combinan abundantes "pinche", "puto" y "al chile" con florituras descriptivas o adverbiales como "le parecía francamente pavoroso" o "el murmullo de la lluvia a su alrededor y los susurros provenientes de la casona a sus espaldas... se apagaron a su alrededor, etc., etc". (Sí, dice "a su alrededor" dos veces). En fin, que no se entiende si las palabras que leemos vienen de Polo o de una voz escritural ambigua, casi antropológica, con la que Melchor trata de estudiar a un joven de clase baja como si fuera un bicho en el microscopio; trata de comprenderlo no para darle voz en sus propios términos, sino para redactar un reporte "bien escrito" sobre su existencia y regresar acá, a la burbuja burguesa de la civilización citadina, y vendérselo con la etiqueta de "crítica social" a las parvadas de académicos, reseñistas y gente culta que la han puesto en el candelero.
He visto gente (aunque no es mucha y suelen hablar en grupitos secretos o en voz baja) decir que Melchor "utiliza" o "se apropia" del dolor ajeno para el lucimiento propio. Yo no he leído sus otras novelas aún, así que no puedo ofrecer una generalización tan descarada, pero creo que algo del problema me resulta visible en Páradais. Hay una diferencia entre escribir algo y escribir sobre algo, y me queda la sensación de que Melchor hace lo segundo. Que la vida en México y en cualquier otro feudo del capitalismo-desastre es absurdamente desigual; que las clases bajas viven en la humillación de servir a patrones que los tratan como autómatas invisibles; que el narcotráfico ha raído y teñido de rojo los espacios de la vida común en México; que la existencia masculina sufre bajo el peso de una ira y una frustración impotentes, que a menudo se desbordan en violencia de género o se fugan a la criminalidad; todo esto ya lo sabemos. Todos hemos visto Amores perros o Parasite o leído el periódico. ¿Y luego? ¿Dónde está la disrupción en repetirlo de nuevo?
¿Qué tanto aporta una novela social que sigue viendo al oprimido como un objeto de estudio o un peón narrativo antes que un agente vivo, con su propia voz, su propia lengua y su propia mente? ¿Acaso pretender entrar en el horror del clasismo y de la vida marginal en México a través de un libro como este --convencional, lineal, recatado, lleno de tropos de géneros establecidos, bien puntuado y acentuado, que no confronta al lector burgués con ningún reto ni con una voz realmente otra-- no es un poco como ir al zoológico y pensar que se conoce la selva?
(reseña completa en https://revistamarabunta.net/paradais... )
February 24, 2021
¡Hey, lo hizo otra vez!! Nos regaló el lodazal y también nos regaló los oásises, belleza en medio de la miseria, Polo mirando hacia el río, hacia los peces bobos, pensando en su abuelo. El color salmón de los atardeceres del puerto.
Agradezco este libro como veracruzana y como ciclista.
¿Les gustó mi palabra "oásises"?
Agradezco este libro como veracruzana y como ciclista.
¿Les gustó mi palabra "oásises"?
February 25, 2023
felt nothing more than horror porn with no depth whatsoever.
May 31, 2022
2.5, rounded up.
Ok, after this and the equally brutal Hurricane Season, I have to conclude that Melchor is just an author who will never be my cuppa. While I can grudgingly admire her talent, I just find her novellas unrelentingly nasty (which I grant is the whole point) and unpleasant reading. Both books I just wanted to be over as quickly as possible.
I suppose you are supposed to feel some sort of empathy or pity for her characters, due to their hopeless reduced living situations and poverty, but I could find absolutely NO redeeming qualities in any of them - Polo is perhaps slightly less offensive than Franco, not being as physically repulsive and monomaniacally in thrall to his sexual obsession, but neither are ones I really cared about - nor were their rich family of victims. I need a brain shower, ASAP.
Ok, after this and the equally brutal Hurricane Season, I have to conclude that Melchor is just an author who will never be my cuppa. While I can grudgingly admire her talent, I just find her novellas unrelentingly nasty (which I grant is the whole point) and unpleasant reading. Both books I just wanted to be over as quickly as possible.
I suppose you are supposed to feel some sort of empathy or pity for her characters, due to their hopeless reduced living situations and poverty, but I could find absolutely NO redeeming qualities in any of them - Polo is perhaps slightly less offensive than Franco, not being as physically repulsive and monomaniacally in thrall to his sexual obsession, but neither are ones I really cared about - nor were their rich family of victims. I need a brain shower, ASAP.
April 3, 2022
The luxury housing complex at the centre of this novel is called Paradise, but groundskeeper Polo has trouble pronouncing this English word so his employer orders him to say it phonetically as “Paradais”. Polo is trapped in this dead end job where he's ordered to perform menial tasks for rich people. He's paid little and what money he does make goes directly to his overbearing mother who makes him sleep on a palate on the floor. Polo's cousin lives with them and she may be pregnant with his baby. Outside of work he spends time getting drunk with one of the older boys who lives in the complex named Franco, but Polo refers to him disparagingly as “fatboy”. He's disgusted by Franco but the boy steals quality alcohol or small sums of money for Polo to buy them booze. The sour dynamic of this friendship of convenience is so vividly conveyed as the boys waste their time together and hatch an evil plan. Franco has failed socially and academically so will probably be sent to a military school. He becomes obsessed with his masturbatory fantasies about his female neighbour who is a mother. So they decide to break into the neighbour's home so Franco can force her to have sex with him and they can rob the property. These are young men who feel they have nothing to lose which makes them incredibly dangerous.
As with Melchor's novel “Hurricane Season” there is a hypnotic intensity to her prose which spills out in an almost stream of consciousness style. We're bombarded by Polo's sensory experience of the world and his emotional interpretation of it. All the while we deeply feel his growing resentment for the callous wealthy residents of this complex and anger about his limited options in life. This takes the form of long blocks of text and extended sentences. It's a narrative structure which is entirely suited to conveying Polo's point of view and made me feel trapped in it just as he feels ensnared by his circumstances. In this way it feels somewhat similar to Damon Galgut's technique in “The Promise” because while being locked into the perspective of this character the reader is also implicated in his misogyny, bitterness and fury. While this can't exactly be called a pleasant experience it is so effective in conveying his worldview, his warped reasoning and his motivations. It made me feel empathy for him as he essentially doesn't seem like a bad person. He's just overwhelmingly frustrated by his economic and social position in life. He's also been raised to embody a pernicious form of masculinity. At the same time, I'm repulsed by his attitude and decisions. It's an effective way of completely drawing me into this menacing character's life.
Read my full review of Paradais by Fernanda Melchor at LonesomeReader
As with Melchor's novel “Hurricane Season” there is a hypnotic intensity to her prose which spills out in an almost stream of consciousness style. We're bombarded by Polo's sensory experience of the world and his emotional interpretation of it. All the while we deeply feel his growing resentment for the callous wealthy residents of this complex and anger about his limited options in life. This takes the form of long blocks of text and extended sentences. It's a narrative structure which is entirely suited to conveying Polo's point of view and made me feel trapped in it just as he feels ensnared by his circumstances. In this way it feels somewhat similar to Damon Galgut's technique in “The Promise” because while being locked into the perspective of this character the reader is also implicated in his misogyny, bitterness and fury. While this can't exactly be called a pleasant experience it is so effective in conveying his worldview, his warped reasoning and his motivations. It made me feel empathy for him as he essentially doesn't seem like a bad person. He's just overwhelmingly frustrated by his economic and social position in life. He's also been raised to embody a pernicious form of masculinity. At the same time, I'm repulsed by his attitude and decisions. It's an effective way of completely drawing me into this menacing character's life.
Read my full review of Paradais by Fernanda Melchor at LonesomeReader
February 5, 2021
Una novela hipnótica, terrible, negra, que cuenta toda la violencia de una sociedad a través de un crimen. La prosa de Melchor es única, capaz de registros impresionantes.
March 1, 2023
A violent book that perfectly captures that wrong, dangerous false hope that emptiness can be shaken by cruelty.
Some say this book is gratuitous. No, failure is this ugly.
Some say this book is gratuitous. No, failure is this ugly.
October 27, 2021
He leído todos los libros de Fernanda Melchor y la verdad es que éste es el único que no me ha convencido. Para mi gusto, le sobran muchas páginas y bien pudo haber quitado narraciones innecesarias y ser un buen relato.
Lo que rescato es que al narrar en primera persona , logra perfectamente hacee sentir en carne propia la rabia, frustración e impotencia del personaje.
La verdad no la recomiendo y es una novela muy prescindible 😬
Lo que rescato es que al narrar en primera persona , logra perfectamente hacee sentir en carne propia la rabia, frustración e impotencia del personaje.
La verdad no la recomiendo y es una novela muy prescindible 😬
June 9, 2022
"That's the moment Polo began to hate him. But truly hate him, enough to want to break his ugly mug, to smash that square bottle in his face".
There was not much delight in reading this, but if you're after something raw and unadorned, you'll appreciate its quality. An account of two teenage boys in a luxury housing complex called Paradais. Polo: feckless, poor gardner of the gated community, and Franco: fat, porn-addicted resident of the former.
Intendedly miserable; casting a depressing shadow on the frailties of Mexican society. Largely sorrowful and uncouth imagery - often sexually grotesque, exposing racism, homophobia, alcoholism, rape, torture, violence, poverty and the fragility of teenage life.
Through the cracks of the sorrow shines Melchor's talent - pacey, gritty, authentic. To be devoured in one sitting due to the dramatic, eventful prose.
There was not much delight in reading this, but if you're after something raw and unadorned, you'll appreciate its quality. An account of two teenage boys in a luxury housing complex called Paradais. Polo: feckless, poor gardner of the gated community, and Franco: fat, porn-addicted resident of the former.
Intendedly miserable; casting a depressing shadow on the frailties of Mexican society. Largely sorrowful and uncouth imagery - often sexually grotesque, exposing racism, homophobia, alcoholism, rape, torture, violence, poverty and the fragility of teenage life.
Through the cracks of the sorrow shines Melchor's talent - pacey, gritty, authentic. To be devoured in one sitting due to the dramatic, eventful prose.
April 4, 2021
Páradais es una novela corta en la que la violencia se va cociendo a fuego lento encendida por los combustibles de la precariedad, la pobreza y el hastío, que acaba explotando en un final que te deja sin respiración. Cuenta la historia de dos jóvenes que curan sus dolores con alcohol a la orilla de un manglar que circunda una urbanización de lujo: uno de ellos es un heredero solitario y malcriado y el otro un jardinero sin suerte ni futuro. Planeando un crimen terrible que no saben si serán capaces de hacer ven pasar las noches de un verano claustrofóbico y húmedo que cambiará para siempre sus vidas.
Esta novela está narrada desde la oralidad y sirve como reflexión sobre las diferencias sociales del México actual, sobre la omnipresencia de la violencia en su día a día y sobre las negras perspectivas de futuro de los menos favorecidos. Fernanda Melchor demuestra una capacidad grandiosa para mostrar instantáneas gracias a las palabras y para encontrar la belleza en los lugares más insospechados. Su prosa a veces hace pensar en la candidez y en la perspectiva social que encontramos en novelas como El vampiro de la Colonia Roma o Panza de burro. Su historia es como si una de esas oníricas películas de contenido social que estrenan en Sundance hubiese sido terminada por Tarantino. Su libro es tan sucio, incómodo y angustioso como imprescindible.
Esta novela está narrada desde la oralidad y sirve como reflexión sobre las diferencias sociales del México actual, sobre la omnipresencia de la violencia en su día a día y sobre las negras perspectivas de futuro de los menos favorecidos. Fernanda Melchor demuestra una capacidad grandiosa para mostrar instantáneas gracias a las palabras y para encontrar la belleza en los lugares más insospechados. Su prosa a veces hace pensar en la candidez y en la perspectiva social que encontramos en novelas como El vampiro de la Colonia Roma o Panza de burro. Su historia es como si una de esas oníricas películas de contenido social que estrenan en Sundance hubiese sido terminada por Tarantino. Su libro es tan sucio, incómodo y angustioso como imprescindible.
March 27, 2021
Fernanda Melchor es una experta en narrar. Puede tomar cualquier historia y volverla una obra de arte, no estoy segura si esta es mi historia favorita, pero es indudable que ella posee una manera única de manipular el lenguaje oral y llevarlo a la escritura sin problemas, cuando la lees lees la viva voz. Sus personajes masculinos son ese reflejo de la marginalidad más carroña, tanto que te cala y te incomoda y dices, wey, ya por fa. Por eso hay personas que les duele leerla. Esta historia nos presenta dos personajes masculinos y su voz interna, estos personajes están atravesados por la masculinidad más violenta y cruel, pertenecen a una periferia y lo que hace la autora es traerla para que la observemos y nos incomode de todas formas. Diría que lo que hace que esta novela sea brillante es su forma de narrar, no sé si lo que narra me guste, pero eso es mi opinión, a veces me canso de leer personajes femeninos bien vilipendiados, aunque entiendo que acá lo que se intenta es exponer la violencia de ser vato.
July 15, 2021
Leer a Fernanda Melchor es una experiencia que no te deja intacto. Creo que estamos ante una gran autora de la letras en español, la musicalidad de su prosa dentro de un contexto tan sórdido te embruja y te empuja a seguir leyendo. La única pega de esta novela es que es demasiado corta, pero se lo podemos perdonar. Respecto a la anterior "Temporada de huracanes", me resulta perturbador que la acción transcurra en un entorno social más reconocible para un lector medio... A pesar de lo cual, la narración te introduce en la sentina del alma humana, sin darte cuartel. Inmensa, Fernanda Melchor.
February 14, 2021
Buenísimo
Tremendísimo
Ciertísimo
Chistosísimo
Dolorosísimo
Agilísimo
y algo se me atoró al final...me faltó un párrafito más
¿por qué la prisa si iba tan bien?
Tremendísimo
Ciertísimo
Chistosísimo
Dolorosísimo
Agilísimo
y algo se me atoró al final...me faltó un párrafito más
¿por qué la prisa si iba tan bien?
July 26, 2023
what the fuck. what a brutal read
April 3, 2022
Longlisted for the Booker International Prize 2022
This was the last of the ten books I have read from the Booker International list - I had already read four when the list was announced and there are three more that I will probably only get hold of it they make the shortlist. Having admired but not enjoyed Hurricane Season a couple of years ago, I was rather dreading this one - that book was both exceptionally bleak and harrowing and also written in chapter long sentences, which made for a very intense and not entirely pleasurable reading experience.
This time round there is still plenty of grim subject matter, not least the brutal double murder that the main protagonist Polo finds himself dragged into, but there are more sentence and paragraph breaks, and the underlying reasons for Polo's lack of agency make him a more sympathetic character than anyone in Hurricane Season.
Polo works as a gardener/factotum for a glamorous rich couple. His wages are taken by his mother, and his social life is mostly drinking, firstly with his older cousin Milton, who gets entangled in a violent gang, and with "fat boy" Franco, the misfit child of another rich family whose increasingly violent sexual fantasies centre on the woman Polo works for. At first Polo sees this as all talk, but Franco is serious and the results are played out in the dramatic and somewhat grisly denouement.
This was the last of the ten books I have read from the Booker International list - I had already read four when the list was announced and there are three more that I will probably only get hold of it they make the shortlist. Having admired but not enjoyed Hurricane Season a couple of years ago, I was rather dreading this one - that book was both exceptionally bleak and harrowing and also written in chapter long sentences, which made for a very intense and not entirely pleasurable reading experience.
This time round there is still plenty of grim subject matter, not least the brutal double murder that the main protagonist Polo finds himself dragged into, but there are more sentence and paragraph breaks, and the underlying reasons for Polo's lack of agency make him a more sympathetic character than anyone in Hurricane Season.
Polo works as a gardener/factotum for a glamorous rich couple. His wages are taken by his mother, and his social life is mostly drinking, firstly with his older cousin Milton, who gets entangled in a violent gang, and with "fat boy" Franco, the misfit child of another rich family whose increasingly violent sexual fantasies centre on the woman Polo works for. At first Polo sees this as all talk, but Franco is serious and the results are played out in the dramatic and somewhat grisly denouement.
March 20, 2022
WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST READ?! It’s been a been a while since I’ve a read a novel this shocking and visceral with every turning page. I was out of breath, exhausted and in shock by the end of it. This tiny novel under 120 pages packs such a gut wrenching experience. It’s as if Frenanda Melchor was driving a car without the breaks on, pushing on the gas pedal for 120mph on a rocky highway lane.
While some might see this novel as a nail biting crime thriller, bordering on trauma porn; Melchor uses her prose to explores complex societal topics such as classism, racism and sexism. It explores toxic masculinity in mental states of both the conscious and unconscious, the idea of a wishful paradise (‘paradais’) and hidden metaphors/allegories said in both the implicit and explicit.
The novel centers around two teenage boys in a luxury housing complex called ‘Paradais’. Outcasts and loners, they come up with a macabre plan (a snatch) to break into a luxury housing villa. The two main characters are some of the most disgusting, pathetic and most misogynistic characters I have ever come across. Yet Melchors clever writing compels you to feel a kernel sympathy for them; because they are products of poverty, violence and trauma. The characters are fully flushed out, each and every member played a prominent role in shaping our main characters mental and characteristic trait.
In addition, Melchors writing is truly something to behold. She writes with barley using a full stop to mark the end of the sentences. The whole novel was overrun sentences that had me out of breath, clinging to the edge of my seat. While this writing might get annoying with other told tales, I felt like it worked perfectly in Melchors prose as the whole trip was a whirlwind of gut punches that she kept throwing at you, one you can never duck out off.
I’m still not recovered from this revetting tale, a tale that takes guts to tell, not sugar coating a single thing or leave any crumbs behind.
My favorite read of this year as of so far. A novel to behold, a horror to witness and a piece of literature that should not be dismissed. Melchor crafted an unstoppable masterpiece and you can’t tell her shit. A work of translated fiction, I would also like to give a standing ovation for Sophie Hughes in translating this text from Spanish into English.
Fernanda Melchor is a power house author and this novel deserves to be long listed amongst the greatest pieces of translated fiction for the international booker prize 2022. Think of something along the lines of parasite meets a clockwork orange meets uncut gems. If that sounds right up your alley, go give this rollercoaster a ride.
While some might see this novel as a nail biting crime thriller, bordering on trauma porn; Melchor uses her prose to explores complex societal topics such as classism, racism and sexism. It explores toxic masculinity in mental states of both the conscious and unconscious, the idea of a wishful paradise (‘paradais’) and hidden metaphors/allegories said in both the implicit and explicit.
The novel centers around two teenage boys in a luxury housing complex called ‘Paradais’. Outcasts and loners, they come up with a macabre plan (a snatch) to break into a luxury housing villa. The two main characters are some of the most disgusting, pathetic and most misogynistic characters I have ever come across. Yet Melchors clever writing compels you to feel a kernel sympathy for them; because they are products of poverty, violence and trauma. The characters are fully flushed out, each and every member played a prominent role in shaping our main characters mental and characteristic trait.
In addition, Melchors writing is truly something to behold. She writes with barley using a full stop to mark the end of the sentences. The whole novel was overrun sentences that had me out of breath, clinging to the edge of my seat. While this writing might get annoying with other told tales, I felt like it worked perfectly in Melchors prose as the whole trip was a whirlwind of gut punches that she kept throwing at you, one you can never duck out off.
I’m still not recovered from this revetting tale, a tale that takes guts to tell, not sugar coating a single thing or leave any crumbs behind.
My favorite read of this year as of so far. A novel to behold, a horror to witness and a piece of literature that should not be dismissed. Melchor crafted an unstoppable masterpiece and you can’t tell her shit. A work of translated fiction, I would also like to give a standing ovation for Sophie Hughes in translating this text from Spanish into English.
Fernanda Melchor is a power house author and this novel deserves to be long listed amongst the greatest pieces of translated fiction for the international booker prize 2022. Think of something along the lines of parasite meets a clockwork orange meets uncut gems. If that sounds right up your alley, go give this rollercoaster a ride.
March 21, 2021
No sé que pensar al respecto..
¿Puede una autora ser machista?... ¿puede caer en el error de convertirse en lo mismo que critica?
Pues probablemente esto pase o así me sienta con Fernanda Melchor, lejos de ser una crítica la novela me parece que cayó en los absurdo y vulgar, lo que me lleva a pensar.. ¿realmente estas novelas consideradas como "Novela del mes" en alguna librerías, ¿son buenas?.. ¿me aportan algo?. .. ¿tiene una narrativa diferente como para decir, leí algo que valió la pena?.. realmente no, y con esto me refiero a dar solamente a mi opinión..
No lo disfruté, aunque siendo tan corta lo acabé en cuestión de 2 días, ,, la novela no mejoró, no pasó nada de un caso que puede ser considerado como feminicidio, que es donde la autora quiso llegar, el reflejar la realidad de la sociedad, una realidad machista que se fija en las mujeres como un objeto y les brinda un rasgo meramente "sexual", pero ahí esta el error de la autora y es que lejos de defender a la mujer se la pasa expresándose de manera terrible de ellas, en este caso la Señora Maroño su personaje no crece, no aporta no nada, simplemente es el objeto de obsesión de uno de los dos adolescentes, que la verdad no se justifica en ningún momento.
Entiéndase esta reseña como mi particular punto de vista, dista mucho de ser una buena lectura.
Para mas reseñas sígueme en Instagram como @arqui.lectura
¿Puede una autora ser machista?... ¿puede caer en el error de convertirse en lo mismo que critica?
Pues probablemente esto pase o así me sienta con Fernanda Melchor, lejos de ser una crítica la novela me parece que cayó en los absurdo y vulgar, lo que me lleva a pensar.. ¿realmente estas novelas consideradas como "Novela del mes" en alguna librerías, ¿son buenas?.. ¿me aportan algo?. .. ¿tiene una narrativa diferente como para decir, leí algo que valió la pena?.. realmente no, y con esto me refiero a dar solamente a mi opinión..
No lo disfruté, aunque siendo tan corta lo acabé en cuestión de 2 días, ,, la novela no mejoró, no pasó nada de un caso que puede ser considerado como feminicidio, que es donde la autora quiso llegar, el reflejar la realidad de la sociedad, una realidad machista que se fija en las mujeres como un objeto y les brinda un rasgo meramente "sexual", pero ahí esta el error de la autora y es que lejos de defender a la mujer se la pasa expresándose de manera terrible de ellas, en este caso la Señora Maroño su personaje no crece, no aporta no nada, simplemente es el objeto de obsesión de uno de los dos adolescentes, que la verdad no se justifica en ningún momento.
Entiéndase esta reseña como mi particular punto de vista, dista mucho de ser una buena lectura.
Para mas reseñas sígueme en Instagram como @arqui.lectura
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August 15, 2022not my thing
February 28, 2023
Καλώς ήρθατε στο Πάρανταϊς,ένα συγκ��ότημα υπερλουξ κατοικιών στο Μεξικό , όπου ο κεντρικός χαρακτήρας ,ο Πόλο,είναι ο κηπουρός και ο φράνκο ένας έφηβος που ζει με τους παππούδες του και έχει εμμονή με την σύζυγό του ζαμπλουτου παρουσιαστή που μένει στο συγκρότημα με την οικογένεια του .οι δύο νεαροί ενώνονται αρχικά από το πάθος τους για το ποτό ,αλλά και από την προφανή απόρριψη και ματαίωση που έχουν λάβει από την οικογένεια τους ,καθώς οι δικοί τους τους υποτιμούν ,τους βρίζουν ,τους χαρακτηρίζουν άχρηστους και καταφεύγουν στη βία για να τους συναιτησουν .όλα αυτά βέβαια ,δεν έχουν κανένα αποτέλεσμα μιας και ο δρόμος των δύο νέων είναι γεμάτος από παραβάσεις ,βία ,έλλειψη οποιασδήποτε ευθύνης και μιας κατάληξης που αγγίζει τα όρια της παραφροσύνης ,καθώς οι δυο τους συλλαμβάνουν ένα σχέδιο που επιφανειακά δείχνει ότι θέλουν ο καθένας να ικανοποιήσει τη λαγνεία και την πλεονεξία του ,αλλά σε δεύτερη ανάγνωση επιθυμούν να αποδείξουν σε όσους τους υποτιμούν το τι αξίζουν ,με ολέθρια αποτελέσματα .
Η μελτσορ γράφει ξανά ένα βιβλίο που είναι γεμάτο με τη βρωμιά και τη δυσωδία της σύγχρονης κοινωνίας που ζουν οι πρωταγωνιστές .βία ,βρισιά,γλώσσα ωμή που σε κάνει να κοκκινίζεις,αιμομιξίες ,σεξ,σεξ,σεξ ...όλα αυτά που την ξεχώρισαν στο προηγούμενο βιβλίο της ,έχουν παρουσία και εδώ και αρχικά σε ενθουσιάζουν εξίσου ,αλλά στη συνέχεια ,δε μπορείς παρά να αναρωτηθείς τι άλλο έχει να δείξει η συγγραφέας .δεν υπαρχει αμφιβολία ότι είναι ένα βιβλίο πολύ δυνατό με επίδειξη τρομερού ταλέντου συγγραφικού και τεράστιου θάρρους από τη μεριά της μελτσορ .απολαμβάνω να βλέπω γυναίκες συγγραφείς να τολμούν και να γράφουν με τέτοιο τρόπο .ωστόσο θέλω να δω την εξέλιξη της και σε κάτι που δε θα μοιάζει τόσο με την εποχή των τυφώνων .
🌟🌟🌟🌟/5 αστερια
Η μελτσορ γράφει ξανά ένα βιβλίο που είναι γεμάτο με τη βρωμιά και τη δυσωδία της σύγχρονης κοινωνίας που ζουν οι πρωταγωνιστές .βία ,βρισιά,γλώσσα ωμή που σε κάνει να κοκκινίζεις,αιμομιξίες ,σεξ,σεξ,σεξ ...όλα αυτά που την ξεχώρισαν στο προηγούμενο βιβλίο της ,έχουν παρουσία και εδώ και αρχικά σε ενθουσιάζουν εξίσου ,αλλά στη συνέχεια ,δε μπορείς παρά να αναρωτηθείς τι άλλο έχει να δείξει η συγγραφέας .δεν υπαρχει αμφιβολία ότι είναι ένα βιβλίο πολύ δυνατό με επίδειξη τρομερού ταλέντου συγγραφικού και τεράστιου θάρρους από τη μεριά της μελτσορ .απολαμβάνω να βλέπω γυναίκες συγγραφείς να τολμούν και να γράφουν με τέτοιο τρόπο .ωστόσο θέλω να δω την εξέλιξη της και σε κάτι που δε θα μοιάζει τόσο με την εποχή των τυφώνων .
🌟🌟🌟🌟/5 αστερια
March 23, 2022
FULL REVIEW // Melchor, I love your mind. Give me more.
Full disclosure: This is not HURRICANE SEASON great, but it is great nonetheless. While PARADAIS shares a lot of similarities with the former: both have cruel and miserable tones; showcase repulsive-WTF imagery; have seemingly never-ending sentences (although the sentences are less flamboyant here); explore themes of poverty, violence, greed, and toxic masculinity, both books approach these attributes quite differently. PARADAIS felt a lot more introverted and self-contained. In HURRICANE SEASON, there were a wide array of characters; everyone is always moving around with nervous energy; desperate and unable to keep still, and a frenetic energy throughout. Although in PARADAIS the two main characters are also nervous and desperate, they have limitations on where they can go. This is in part because they are merely teenagers, but it’s also because they are quite physically trapped in their surroundings. Read the book to see what I mean.
While in HURRICANE SEASON, every page feels like it’s running out of time, the narrative of this novel bubbles and bubbles until it explodes. You know it's all going to violently erupt; you’re just waiting for when that ruthless release occurs. For pages upon pages, we’re trapped in the head of Polo, the frustrated teenager who feels like he has no options, who feels like he was given the short end of the stick. But maybe things are about to change for him due to the maniacal plan his friend/enemy Franco has cooked up. Both Polo and Franco see themselves as outsiders, each with their own version of paradise. To them, ideal paradise is getting what they want, but this involves snatching it away from others; they have this inane belief that things should just be given to them. It’s a different kind of entitlement. And that’s what makes them so dangerous.
Melchor has a way of making me feel everything she writes. I was highly nervous throughout, but damn, those last 10 pages had me squirming. It terrorized all of my senses. PARADAIS is a literary pressure cooker.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CbdLphkrR...
Full disclosure: This is not HURRICANE SEASON great, but it is great nonetheless. While PARADAIS shares a lot of similarities with the former: both have cruel and miserable tones; showcase repulsive-WTF imagery; have seemingly never-ending sentences (although the sentences are less flamboyant here); explore themes of poverty, violence, greed, and toxic masculinity, both books approach these attributes quite differently. PARADAIS felt a lot more introverted and self-contained. In HURRICANE SEASON, there were a wide array of characters; everyone is always moving around with nervous energy; desperate and unable to keep still, and a frenetic energy throughout. Although in PARADAIS the two main characters are also nervous and desperate, they have limitations on where they can go. This is in part because they are merely teenagers, but it’s also because they are quite physically trapped in their surroundings. Read the book to see what I mean.
While in HURRICANE SEASON, every page feels like it’s running out of time, the narrative of this novel bubbles and bubbles until it explodes. You know it's all going to violently erupt; you’re just waiting for when that ruthless release occurs. For pages upon pages, we’re trapped in the head of Polo, the frustrated teenager who feels like he has no options, who feels like he was given the short end of the stick. But maybe things are about to change for him due to the maniacal plan his friend/enemy Franco has cooked up. Both Polo and Franco see themselves as outsiders, each with their own version of paradise. To them, ideal paradise is getting what they want, but this involves snatching it away from others; they have this inane belief that things should just be given to them. It’s a different kind of entitlement. And that’s what makes them so dangerous.
Melchor has a way of making me feel everything she writes. I was highly nervous throughout, but damn, those last 10 pages had me squirming. It terrorized all of my senses. PARADAIS is a literary pressure cooker.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CbdLphkrR...
April 8, 2022
This is hard to judge - I appreciate the skill of her writing and the realistic portrayal of life in poverty, but this was not fun to read.
June 9, 2021
El infierno del incel
Empezó gustándome mucho, más que nada por cómo está escrita, con todos los modismos mexicanos, de chingadas, pedos, chelas, y todas esas palabras que le dan una musicalidad hermosa a la historia. Uno siente que es una anécdota que te la está contando un amigo mexicano mientras toma una Corona en la terraza de un bar. Pero sobre el final se me fue pinchando un poco, y tiene que ver con ese modo de contar. Es que está narrada por un omnisciente pero en un tono propio de la primera persona, noté una contradicción ahí, o yo directamente me perdí. (ALERTA SPOILER) Especialmente en el final, cuando sucede lo que sucede, que pega una elipsis, y hace algo que en cine sería como alejar la cámara que se aleja de la acción y meter una voz en off. Tal vez muchos la consideren una decisión magistral de la autora, pero a mí me sacó de clima.
Además en el medio hay un elemento sobrenatural que a mí no me cierra del todo, un mito no del todo explicado que hace una aparición espectral y la vez concreta, que rompe el tono realista del resto de la novela.
Todo lo demás está buenísimo. El ritmo, las ideas, las subhistorias de la prima y el primo de Polo, la escena en el supermercado, la vida alrededor de un barrio cerrado que no hace otra cosa que producir marginalidad, con un protagonista colgado del pincel y otro que está adentro del perímetro pero es un incel a lo Joker, con una violencia latente, extremadamente cruel y, obviamente, gratuita.
Llegué a esta novela con mucho entusiasmo, porque la anterior de Melchor, "Temporada de huracanes", dicen que es muy buena. Voy a leerla, y tal vez le pegue una releída a esta, a ver si hay algo que no entendí bien porque veo que por acá le gustó a muchos.
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Si te gustan mis reseñas tal vez también te guste mi newsletter sobre libros que se llama "No se puede leer todo". Se pueden suscribir gratis, poniendo su mail en este link: eepurl.com/hbwz7v La encuentran en Twitter como @Nosepuedeleert1, en Instagram como @Nosepuedeleertodo y en Facebook.
Gracias, te espero
Sant
Empezó gustándome mucho, más que nada por cómo está escrita, con todos los modismos mexicanos, de chingadas, pedos, chelas, y todas esas palabras que le dan una musicalidad hermosa a la historia. Uno siente que es una anécdota que te la está contando un amigo mexicano mientras toma una Corona en la terraza de un bar. Pero sobre el final se me fue pinchando un poco, y tiene que ver con ese modo de contar. Es que está narrada por un omnisciente pero en un tono propio de la primera persona, noté una contradicción ahí, o yo directamente me perdí. (ALERTA SPOILER) Especialmente en el final, cuando sucede lo que sucede, que pega una elipsis, y hace algo que en cine sería como alejar la cámara que se aleja de la acción y meter una voz en off. Tal vez muchos la consideren una decisión magistral de la autora, pero a mí me sacó de clima.
Además en el medio hay un elemento sobrenatural que a mí no me cierra del todo, un mito no del todo explicado que hace una aparición espectral y la vez concreta, que rompe el tono realista del resto de la novela.
Todo lo demás está buenísimo. El ritmo, las ideas, las subhistorias de la prima y el primo de Polo, la escena en el supermercado, la vida alrededor de un barrio cerrado que no hace otra cosa que producir marginalidad, con un protagonista colgado del pincel y otro que está adentro del perímetro pero es un incel a lo Joker, con una violencia latente, extremadamente cruel y, obviamente, gratuita.
Llegué a esta novela con mucho entusiasmo, porque la anterior de Melchor, "Temporada de huracanes", dicen que es muy buena. Voy a leerla, y tal vez le pegue una releída a esta, a ver si hay algo que no entendí bien porque veo que por acá le gustó a muchos.
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Si te gustan mis reseñas tal vez también te guste mi newsletter sobre libros que se llama "No se puede leer todo". Se pueden suscribir gratis, poniendo su mail en este link: eepurl.com/hbwz7v La encuentran en Twitter como @Nosepuedeleert1, en Instagram como @Nosepuedeleertodo y en Facebook.
Gracias, te espero
Sant
March 25, 2022
Ich glaub man kann dieses Buch auf so mannigfaltige Weise interpretieren.
Meine ist diese: Ein Buch mit der warnenden Botschaft: Auch wenn Du das Leben von Sisyphos führst und dir das Soziale Gefüge schlechte Karten zugespielt hat, hast Du dennoch Handlungs- und Entscheidungsfreiraum, Du hast Verantwortung und kannst Dich nicht in der Opferrolle entschuldigend einnisten ohne dass dies Konsequenzen für Dich und andere mit sich bringt.
Wunderbar eingefangen: die Hoffnungslosigkeit und das Verloren sein- egal ob du arm oder reich geboren wurdest. Dass wir zu Francos Background kaum etwas erfahren ist genial. Man mag ihm schnell Wohlstandsverwahrlosung vorwerfen- ich glaube dass da ganz andere Dinge (ua bezüglich seines Vaters)abliefen, die ihn zu dieser Abscheulichkeit haben mutieren lassen.
Opfer werden zu Tätern.
Eine ganz dichte Atmosphäre- ich habe die Hitze, die Insekten, den Schweiß, die Ausdünstungen und diese tiefe Tristesse mit Haut und Haar spüren können.
Meine ist diese: Ein Buch mit der warnenden Botschaft: Auch wenn Du das Leben von Sisyphos führst und dir das Soziale Gefüge schlechte Karten zugespielt hat, hast Du dennoch Handlungs- und Entscheidungsfreiraum, Du hast Verantwortung und kannst Dich nicht in der Opferrolle entschuldigend einnisten ohne dass dies Konsequenzen für Dich und andere mit sich bringt.
Wunderbar eingefangen: die Hoffnungslosigkeit und das Verloren sein- egal ob du arm oder reich geboren wurdest. Dass wir zu Francos Background kaum etwas erfahren ist genial. Man mag ihm schnell Wohlstandsverwahrlosung vorwerfen- ich glaube dass da ganz andere Dinge (ua bezüglich seines Vaters)abliefen, die ihn zu dieser Abscheulichkeit haben mutieren lassen.
Opfer werden zu Tätern.
Eine ganz dichte Atmosphäre- ich habe die Hitze, die Insekten, den Schweiß, die Ausdünstungen und diese tiefe Tristesse mit Haut und Haar spüren können.
April 12, 2021
Me sería imposible, y por eso no lo he hecho, destacar unas líneas de esta novela o subrayar fragmentos destacables. Me pasa como a uno de los protagonistas de la historia, que antes del desenlace, la “recordaría como una sucesión de instantes casi mudos”. Y así recordaré esta novela sin pausa, ‘a sangre fría’ podría decirse, en la que se condensa -bendita brevedad- un retrato social de desigualdades y violencia que por mucho que nos llegue una y otra vez desde México a través de docenas de libros y películas, sigue pareciendo asombroso. Fernanda Melchor construye además un escenario detallado con resonancias simbólicas y fantásticas por el que se mueve esta realidad. una urbanización para clase alta que es casi una fortaleza medieval, una casa embrujada de la época colonial que es una pesadilla dentro de la pesadilla y el peso de la maldición que se extiende más allá de sus parede, o un río turbio y traicionero que es, como siempre, la misma vida.
August 15, 2022
Qué decepción! igual ya me la veía venir. Esta historia es muy simple, más de lo mismo. Son sobras y retazos de sus libros anteriores, y no creo que tenga nada de malo escribir sobre de lo que uno es experto y tiene más experiencia, es simplemente que Temporada de huracanes y Falsa liebre tienen su punto de reflexión importante, un cuidado preciso en sus personajes por más desagradables y desgraciados que sean. Páradais peca en eso, en mi opinión; no tiene nada y no lleva a ningún lado, es violento por ser violento. Espero que para la próxima Fernanda Melchor tenga una iluminación y nos regale otra obra maestra, porque de verdad la admiro como autora y me encanta su narrativa.
April 7, 2022
Ooof. That ending.
This is everything you have come to expect from Melchor. If you have experienced the Hurricane (Hurricane Season) then this shorter novel is very much more of the same. It's where eternal optimists and readers of whimsy come to get an attitude correction.
Knowing all this I was still surprised by just how bleak this is. I think it's urban horror. I don't know if that's a legitimate category but it's the horror of toxic masculinity as written by someone that understands the roots of violence. This novel takes you inside the head of a misogynist and it is as nasty an experience as you would expect. However, if you are going to go into that mindset then this is the author to do it with - I think she is phenomenally talented.
This is everything you have come to expect from Melchor. If you have experienced the Hurricane (Hurricane Season) then this shorter novel is very much more of the same. It's where eternal optimists and readers of whimsy come to get an attitude correction.
Knowing all this I was still surprised by just how bleak this is. I think it's urban horror. I don't know if that's a legitimate category but it's the horror of toxic masculinity as written by someone that understands the roots of violence. This novel takes you inside the head of a misogynist and it is as nasty an experience as you would expect. However, if you are going to go into that mindset then this is the author to do it with - I think she is phenomenally talented.
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