Cada historia de este libro, con sus pintorescos personajes, puede resumirse en el párrafo al final del capitulo titulado "Manual de Instrucciones":

"Cuando abra la puerta (o el libro) y me asome a la escalera (las páginas), sabré que abajo empieza la calle (la historia); no el molde ya aceptado, no las casas ya sabidas, no el hotel de enfrente; la calle, la viva floresta donde cada instante puede arrojarse sobre mi como una magnolia, donde las caras (los personajes) van a nacer cuando las mire, cuando avance un poco más, cuando con los codos y las pestañas y las uñas me rompa minuciosamente contra la pasta del ladrillo de cristal (o pulpa de celulosa), y juegue mi vida mientras avanzo paso a paso (línea a línea) para ir a comprar el diario a la esquina".
*paréntesis incluidos por mí

Esta obra nos recuerda que, sin ir tan lejos al mundo de la fantasía, es inconsolablemente reconfortante saber que existe magia, sinrazón y absurdo en lo cotidiano. Que subir una escalera tiene instrucciones, que los relojes tienen un doble propósito, que las líneas de la realidad se entrelazan y que, queramos o no, estamos siempre luchando contra el pragmatismo y la consecución de fines útiles, ya que estos conceptos no tienen relevancia alguna.

"Somos como las copias en papel carbónico, idénticas al original salvo que otro color, otro papel, otra finalidad."
"Lo verdaderamente nuevo da miedo o maravilla."

Me hacía falta esta relectura.

3.5 ⭐️

Somehow I've read three things by this writer and somehow every one has been very different, yet easy to tell who wrote it. All of his writings are experimental and radically playful, with moments of comedy and moments of pathos.

This "novel" (if you want to call it that) is essentially a collection of short parables, observations, and jokes, divided into four different sections/themes. Each story/section is only 1-3 pages, with most being on the shorter end. (Compare this to his very different "Blow Up and Other Stories" with much longer, narrative short stories).

Each tiny story is like a delectable treat. Its the kind of reading I like to do in bite sized chunks rather than all at once. I started and finished multiple books while reading this short one.

The parables wave and waver from strikingly beautiful to hilarious to surreal to profound. Sometimes all at once; though for the most part, these are comedic critiques of modern living. In some ways, they aren't too far away from old American silent comedies. My favorite piece was about wearing a watch. I read that one about six times in a row.

The last part of the "novel" are about three fictional animals that Cortazar invented, including the titular Cronopios and Famas. He never tells us what they look like, which makes it a little disorienting at first, but which he uses to further insert his comedic knife.

Although I'd call this a "lesser" Cortazar book than the other two I've read (Hopscotch and Blow Up); I still can't stop thinking about it, and think it easily deserves a five star rating. Its bizarre. A head scratcher. The humor in it reminded me a bit of Kurt Vonnegut or Tom Robbins; both of whom I haven't read since high school. Yet I don't remember either of them having the hidden layers or the depth that these short pieces seem to.

Like the best experimentalists in any art form, Cortazar clearly builds a rule book and follows it to a tee. What a fascinating, unique writer. Its too bad he passed away at a relatively young age. I don't look forward to the day when I've read all his translated books. (I believe he has 7 or 8 in English?)

Cortázar se lee de corrido, pero merece releerse. Si bien es un libro pequeño en tamaño, no deja de ser una obra rica en imágenes, en ideas y en lentes para ver lo asombroso en lo cotidiano.

Cortázar tiene aún mucho que enseñarme, y no precisamente porque yo sea ignorante. Más bien es como ese himno: «estaba ciego pero ahora puedo ver». Algo así me pasa cuando leo con calma y cuidado a Cortázar.

ok guysssss be honest would i be more of a cronopios or a famas?? lololol i am in psychological distress