Ik wist oorspronkelijk niet goed wat ik van deze korte novelle moest denken. Een 30-jarige docent literatuur, Julian, leest 's avonds voor het slapen een boek ('Het verborgen leven van bomen') voor aan zijn stiefdochter, terwijl hij zich in toenemende mate zorgen maakt over zijn partner Veronica (de moeder van het meisje ) die maar wegblijft. Dat wegblijven wordt de mantra van het verhaal, dat tussendoor opgevuld wordt met herinneringen van Julian aan zijn jeugd, aan een eerdere pijnlijke relatie en aan de eerder trieste verwachting dat het kleine meisje zich later niet veel van hem zal herinneren. De novelle laat dan ook een bittere nasmaak achter, samengevat in deze overdenking van Julian: “Het is goed, er waren geen verplichtingen aan verbonden, zoals het zou moeten zijn: we hebben lief om te stoppen met liefhebben, en we stoppen met liefhebben om te beginnen met liefhebben anderen, of om alleen te eindigen, voor een tijdje of voor altijd. Dat is de leer. De enige leer.” Dit is een leuke kleinood, dat ons – net als Julian ten aanzien van zijn stiefdochter – eerst sust, maar ons ontnuchterd achterlaat. ( )

A sweet little book worth reading. A book about people, their incongruities, failures, their loves and joys. Constructed around an interesting premise: this book shall last until one of the protagonists returns home. Good, light reading while travelling—a small oasis to return to for the duration of its pages. ( )

Verónica tarda, Verónica se demora inexplicablemente y el libro sigue hasta que ella regrese o hasta que Julián esté seguro de que ya no volverá. Hacia el final, Julián quiere escribir y no ser escrito, pero esperar es dejarse escribir: esperar es seguir una constante deriva de imágenes. Entonces la historia comienza mucho antes de esa noche última, tal vez una tarde de 1984, con la escena de un niño mirando televisión. Y termina con las inevitables conjeturas sobre la vida de Daniela, la hija de Verónica, a los veinte, a los veinticinco, a los treinta años, cuando ha pasado mucho tiempo desde que su padrastro le contaba historias sobre los árboles.

This short novella is only the second I've ever read by a Chilean author. The first was Nancy by Bruno Lloret, translated by Ellen Jones and published here in Australia by Giramondo as part of their innovative Southern Latitudes series. The Private Lives of Trees is likewise published by a university publishing house, the University of Rochester in the US. It is, as they say at their website, one of only a handful of publishing houses dedicated to increasing access to world literature for English readers— though I do think the situation has improved greatly in recent years since book buyers are no longer limited to what's in stock at a bricks-and-mortar store with a range limited to what a bookseller thinks might sell. Today readers interested in translations unite across the world to order online, sometimes direct from the publisher, as I did with this book which was purchased as part of the First 25 promotion at Open Letter Books (50% off the first 25 books that they published).

The Private Lives of Trees is a book that needs to be read in one sitting, which is easy because it's only 98 pages long. It's the story of a young professor of literature named Julián who has the care of his step-daughter Daniela while his wife goes to art class. Julián is in the habit of telling Daniela an ongoing bedtime story about two trees, and in his spare time on Sundays he's working on a novel about a man who takes up bonsai. But the night on which this story takes place, things are different.

Verónica is late home.

We've all been there. Whether the one who is a late is a husband, a lover, a parent, a friend or a child, it's stressful and it gets worse as the time goes by. By turns anxious and dismissive about the late return, conjecturing about possible reasons benign and otherwise, catastrophising, and then castigating ourselves for being melodramatic, we vacillate from one emotional state to another, and nothing is resolved until either the loved one comes home... or doesn't.

While he waits, Julián tells Daniela her story...

Right now, sheltered by the solitude of the park, the trees are commenting on the bad luck of an oak—two people have carved their names, as a symbol of their friendship, into its bark. 'No one has the right to give you a tattoo without your consent,' says the poplar; the baobab is even more emphatic: 'The oak has been the victim of a deplorable act of vandalism. Those people deserve to be punished. I will not rest until they receive the punishment they deserve. I will traverse earth, sky, and sea in their pursuit.'

The little girl laughs hard, without the least sign of sleepiness. And she urgently, anxiously, asks the inevitable three questions, never just one, always at least two or three: 'What's vandalism, Julián? Can you bring me a glass of lemonade, with three spoonfuls of sugar? Did you and my mother ever carve your names into a tree, as a symbol of your friendship?' (pp. 16-17)

I love this. It reminds me of the daft sagas I was told as a child, and which in turn I told to my own child when he was small, and to my junior classes when we had five minutes to spare. Like Julián, I sometimes lost the thread of an ongoing story and would be taken to task for it, and like him I had to improvise hastily to patch over the error.

To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2020/09/14/the-private-lives-of-trees-by-alejandro-zamb... ( )

50 Thoughts on The Private Lives of Trees.
This will correspond or not with the experience of reading this stirring novel on a cool, sunny day in late Summer.
1)The novel likely takes place in our Chile.
2) I have never been to Chile. Or South America.
3)Miami is the farthest south I have ever ventured. The farthest East is Beograd, Serbia. North: Uppsala, Sweden. West : San Francisco.
4)While in Miami my wife and i saw her friend from Chile.
5) He's a travel minister for a coast city.
6) While Chile is famous for earthquakes, there are none depicted in this novel.
7) I experienced an earthquake a few years ago.
8) It was here in Indiana.
9) the novel is rather universal.
10) it weaves the possibilities in life with the layers of narrative.
11)Neither have much in terms of resolution.
12) Biological death is a certainty.
13)There are a number of references to authors in the book.
14) Aside from Jeanette Winterson and Borges, Paul Auster occupies a prominent space.
15) Paul Auster is very popular in Europe.
16) I've found his books on many people shelves across that continent.
17) I don't really like Paul Auster.
18) There was glib parody of his fiction in The New Yorker.
19) Baking and gardening feature in The Private Lives of Trees.
20) The baking is unsuccessful
21) I hope that isn't a spoiler.
22) Sometimes spoilers can't be helped
23)when my friends and I were reading platform, someone leaked the Bali type massacre at the end.
24) That was sad.
25)I mean the actual event (Bali), the fictional episode and the idea that I knew how the novel would end.
26) I have never been to Bali.
27) I may have covered that in thought #3.
28)The philosophy of the daughter in the book is interesting.
29) It reminds me of that pop song Closing Time.
30) One could also find some Heraclitus within such rumination.
31)There is a scene of vandalism in the novel.
32)Something similar has happened in my family.
33) I was going to type that I didn't understand.
34)That isn't true; I do understand.
35)That makes me sad.
36)Cristiano Ronaldo says that he is sad.
37)He's rich, handsome and one of the 3 best footballers in the world.
38)Football (soccer) does feature in the novel.
39)I regard Ronaldo, Lionel Messi and Zlatan Ibrahimovic as the 3 best players on the planet.
40)Two of the main characters in the novel drink coffee.
41)Though not at the same time.
42)I drink coffee.
43)Essentially espresso, usually 5-8 shots a day.
44)I like to order espresso abroad: its easy for my stumbling tongue.
45)When I travel here I order in bulk: 6-8 shots at a time.
46)Procrastination and hobbies both figure centrally to the narrative here.
47) As does editing, pruning away stories.
48)This also features in the gardening depicted above.
49)I hadn't thought of Candide until just now: hmm
50)I originally titled this 100 Thoughts but became distracted by Voltaire. ( )