March 20, 2020   |   by admin

“A book is a slow, unavoidable catastrophe,” we read in a late entry to On Elegance While Sleeping, Viscount Lascano Tegui’s fictional diary. The book is. Emilio Lascano Tegui is the author of On Elegance While Sleeping ( avg rating, ratings, 30 reviews, published ). Lascano Tegui de is the author of Muchacho de San Telmo. ( avg rating, 1 rating, 0 reviews, published ) and El Libro Celeste ( avg rating.

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On Elegance While Sleeping – Canada.

Even the fish, we are told, are tired by the time they get there. The poet is powerless. There are strange resonances, which suggest a strong aesthetic integrity, and it is not a portrait of a one-dimensional man. And I, behind this glass, watched them die.

Syphilis is a civilized disease, and I intend to declare my allegiance to its aesthetic. Have I already mentioned that I had a myopic relative who worked as an eye doctor and who fished with a tall reed, looking through opera glasses? And sometimes his pronouncements betray his preoccupations with change. We acknowledge and remind and warn you that they may, in fact, be entirely unrepresentative of the actual reviews by any other measure.

This holds true all the way up until the grand finale of the diary, the shock of which shatters all that glass that has separated the writer from the world. The mere fact that he was a self-anointed viscount is testament to his eccentricities, but of course his literary production, too, was markedly odd, and even inspiring, against the backdrop of mainstream Buenos Aires modernism. But what a treat it is. It offers an intriguing look at a somewhat obscure Argentinean avant-garde novel and an interesting counterpoint to other literature of the period.


Even knowing that this, too, will have been in vain. It’s an effective — and effectively unsettling — approach, and just right for this narrator who maintains an equanimity lascank tone even when describing great horror, and yet who ultimately loses that composure in his desire to: The city, in our fearsome urbanized future, will impede their birth.

But it is the humdrum of everyday life that is its greatest failing.

Emilio Lascano Tegui

I acquired it in the most charming of ways. And although the narrator is a misfit whose maladaptation to the world climaxes in an act of vicious cruelty, he nevertheless wonders—plaintively? Sogno senza fine – Italia. He left Argentina for Europe, while his protagonist only leaves Bougival during a brief stint in the army, but both are obsessed with the possibility of human transformation.

The everyday life the writer describes is often far from monotonous — there’s that man who emasculates himself, for one, and there is also murder While it is presented in diary-form, with relatively short, dated entries, these are concerned less with the protagonist’s present than his past: The narrator lives in a fog of lust, and tells us of the time he spent during national service in Tunisia; a father pimps his daughters for a franc at a time, and by the end of six months our narrator has spent francs — if, of course, we are to believe him.

I cleaned the windowpanes with such care that they seemed almost nonexistent in their translucency. And though it ambles back and forth between sexual anecdote and aesthetic, or existential, rumination, it hardly feels slow.

De la elegancia mientras se duerme – US.

Lascano Tegui de (Author of Muchacho de San Telmo. )

His vision of a fragile, imperfect race of perverts and criminals is less an affectionate embrace for flawed humanity, or an affirmation of solidarity in folly, than it is an accusing finger, an indictment of our rush to condemn others without examining our own failings.


After all, our narrator has syphilis “Syphilis is a civilised disease, and I intend to declare my allegiance to its aesthetic. There will come a day when no more poets will be born. Unlike other works of the period, which were so often preoccupied with speed or vigor or the urban landscape as a metaphor for human progress, this little diary has more in common with lasxano Wildean decadence: I inherited his enormous delight in neatness.

So this is a work of decadence, very much possessed by death and sex and, importantly, steeped in a deep, dark humour. Dictator Chronicles by Alfredo Iriarte. Like adults bereft of the elegant obliviousness of youth, civilizations seem to be doomed to ungraceful aging, and infancy only presages death: The story is set in the nineteenth century — the teguui are made over the course of five years, each specifying day and month but the years recorded only as “”.

But there is, despite the book’s brevity, and the fact that it is enormously pleasurable to read at which point let me salute the translation much going on. Poets in greenhouses, the narrator in a winter observatory—such is the work of writing, especially at the end yegui the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth. The writer tries his best — “No, no verse!