Se lee en un suspiro y es, simple y llanamente, maravilloso. Echaba de menos leer a Cortázar, y ahora recuerdo bien por qué.

I finally read this one. Perhaps because I've already read much of his work, but this one seemed underwhelming. There were brilliant bits but also bits that seemed formulaically Cortázarian. This would be a nice primer, because it presents his more playful side, which is the more photogenic side of Cortázar afterall. The thing is that you need this sillier side to enter the serious side, it is the portal through which one finds Cortázar's presumptions to be more stomachable, even appetizing (one must remember that Cortázar is the kind of guy who will go to unimaginable lengths just to laugh at himself).

I really liked the first piece (which I think was untitled), the one about the bear in the pipes, and many of the sillier Cronopios/Famas/Esperanza stuff in the last section.

I sometimes wonder why he is so obsessed with these playful categories--maybe he secretly fears that he is a Famas, or even, god-forbid, an Esperanza. The thing is that he is all these things, and more. Did Cortázar set out to have these correspond roughly with the id, the ego, and the superego? Cronopios is definitely the id, the other two I'm not sure. I see the ego as the esperanza and the superego as the famas, but these are not as clear-cut.

Cortázar's writing is, in itself, the prime example of the battle of these forces. He wants above all to be the instinctual writer, the one who circumambulates logic, who goes directly to the reader's baby-understanding. Naturally he achieves this as he is a born writer. One reads his sentences as if walking through the fecundity of continuous parks.

Yet at the same time he cannot overcome his tendency for logic and order, especially when it breaks down in structure, or when it seems paradoxical. This is a form of paring back that acts against his nature, i.e. to prose playfully and without restraint. Structure and play create slightly opposing armies and sometimes this is a self destructive battle, as in most of his short stories, in which I feel the balance goes towards the structure despite the great prose. But sometimes, as in most of his novels, the balance is just right, and the battle rages on.

No lo he disfrutado tanto como los relatos más "convencionales" de Cortázar, pero es innegable que la prosa es genial y que tiene mucha pegada.

I guess its satire. Whatever

Un maestro. Desternillante. El del Cóndor y Cronopio, sublime!!

Siempre me ha seducido la capacidad de jugar con la lengua y sus reglas gramaticales, de doblar y quebrar ordenanzas de sentido concibiendo así una dirección de lectura a niveles insospechados. Capacidad, indudablemente innata en Cortázar.

Empero, este libro toma este concepto y se lo pasa bien por el culo. La última sección del libro (Historias de Cronopios y famas) es de lejos la mejor parte del libro y por sí sola se merece cinco estrellas, pero las tres secciones previas me parecieron un montón de nada, prosa de un aire dudoso... Por supuesto que hay cosas rescatables como "Instrucciones para subir una escalera"; "Simulacros"; "Propiedades de un sillón" y alguna otra, pero acá hay más de 50 piezas.

A diferencia de "Final del juego", acá las ideas están difuminadas e inconclusas, se puede sentir esa pretención del escritor que recita como hacer torta de manzana al revés y por eso cree que es vanguardista. La verdad que no lo recomiendo.

Este señor sí que tiene un talento con las palabras. Es increíble la manera en cómo expresa cosas tan planas y sencillas. Convierte lo sencillo en algo divertido e interesante.

Delightfully surreal and imaginative