In this second installment of the readalong of Bolaño’s work, the narrator finds himself more lost than ever as he struggles to find meaning, and himself:

And then I realized that something had gone wrong in the last few days . . . but no matter how much I thought about it I couldn’t figure it out what the problem was, the abyss that opened up behind me if I looked over my shoulder. All the same, it didn’t frighten me. It was an abyss without monsters, holding only darkness, silence, and emptiness, three extremes that caused me pain, a lesser pain, true, a flutter in the stomach, but a pain that sometimes felt like fear.

The author deftly takes the reader along for the ride as his writing mirrors his characters thoughts and experiences. Be prepared: its a wild one.

So far I am liking the novel, but in all honesty, I’m not loving it. It reads well, but as others have noted, there isn’t a character that is very likable; at least not enough to really care about.

Yet they are intriguing because they are so different. Redeemable? Not sure. But I’m interested enough to keep reading to find out.

Do you always open a book to scan a few passages in the middle, or do as I do, read the first few lines, then another passage or two?

How much does your impression rely on those first lines, the middle ones – or any for that matter?

I don’t try to judge a book by its cover, nor do I on those opening words. However, each can sway readers towards, or away from a purchase. I say this because it’s apparent that many of the readers I know read books recommended to them.

Not that impulse purchases tend to work out poorly, but most of us would like to be confident that if we are going to be shelling out between $15 to $35 a book, our money is well spent.

Of course, well over 95% of my books were purchased used, and most of those from my local library sale.

But I will buy one brand new if those I trust tell me it is that good.

Here are the opening lines of two books I got today; one an anthology of short stories, another a novel.

Yesterday afternoon the six-o’clock bus ran over Miss Bobbit. I’m not sure what there is to be said bout it; after all, she was only ten years old.

- Stories of the Modern South: “Children On Their Birthdays” by Truman Capote

The first thing the groundskeeper saw when he went to tend to the small cemetery behind St. Sebastian’s was the body that someone had forgotten to bury.

- Picture Perfect by Jodi Picoult

Uh, yeah, not until re-reading the above did I realize they are a bit somber, downright macabre really, but what can I say, they definitely got my attention.

And I bet they got yours too.

Point of fact: after my purchases, I took myself out to lunch. While waiting, I pulled out that anthology and began reading the Truman Capote story. I had to. I wouldn’t leave until I finished it. Grateful to the waitress for not rushing me along, I gave her a substantial tip. Considering she could have turned that table over at least once as I ate and read, it was the least I could do as I know that tips are their true bread and butter.

It was one of the best lunches, and reads, I’ve enjoyed in a long time. Worth every dime and every word, as well as a generous tip to my server.

What about you?

What drives your purchases?

What kind of book buyer are you?

First of all, I am not one to read introductions, but this is a translation so I feel it necessary to glean as much information as I can in order to better understand the author and his work.

Natasha Wimmer, the translator, provides wonderful insights I know will help me in approaching this read:

Bolaño once described The Savage Detectives as his own answer to Huckleberry Finn. Like its precursor, The Savage Detectivesis about friendship – not just between Belano and Lima, but between them and the chorus of fellow writers who help narrate the book. It is also, like Huckleberry Finn, a story of lost innocence. Beginning in Mexico City, the novel travels to Paris, Israel, Vienna, and Barcelona, and, most of all, through twenty years of irreversible experience and generalized disappointment. As Bolaño said in his acceptance speech for the Premio Rómulo Gallegos, “All of Latin America is sown with the bones of its forgotten youths.” In The Savage Detectives, he brings those youths back to life.

The first section of the book is narrated by a teenage boy in Mexico City, apparently patterned after the author’s own experiences and of those who dropped “out of school to devote himself to reading and writing and adolescent rebellion”. It was also at this time that the passion for poetry came to the forefront of the author, and his narrator’s, life.

I agree with Bibliolatrist that there is more humor than expected, but also bittersweet feelings as Juan García Madero loses himself and his innocence. It’s just as the title of the section says: Mexicans Lost In Mexico.

Just as we discover that Madero and others are seeking someone, we also come to see they are also seeking something: an identity.

This is a book about friends, but more so a journey of discovery.

I am intrigued enough, so far, to follow them as they wander.

If you are interested in joining, please read this post.