Antonio Skármeta (1940–2024)

A Distant Father, Antonio Skármeta, Translated from the Spanish by John Cullen
Other Press
ISBN: 978-1-59051-625-6
$15.95, 101 pages

A Distant Father by Antonio Skármeta is a spare but arresting novella. A master at work, Skármeta proves that it isn’t necessary to painstakingly draw every individual brick in a wall; a few suggestive brushstrokes, mere scaffolding, can deliver full impact.

The author of Il Postino: The Postman, which inspired the Academy Award-winning film of the same name, show more Skármeta won the Premio Iberoamericano Planeta Casa de América de Narrativa for his novel The Days of the Rainbow. He was awarded Chile’s National Literature Prize earlier this year. In his latest, Skármeta begins casting his spell immediately, on page one:

“My life is made up of rustic elements, rural things: the dying wail of the local train, winter apples, the moisture on lemons touched by early morning frost, the patient spider in a shadowy corner of my room, the breeze that moves my curtains.”

Jacques is a young teacher in the tiny, provincial village of Contulmo, Chile, who also translates works in French for newspapers while dreaming of one day publishing his own poetry. On the day he arrived home a year ago with his teaching degree in hand, he stepped off the train onto the platform in time for his father to kiss him and climb onto that same train and disappear. Jacques’s description of the effect his father’s departure has on his mother is a perfect example of those few, deceptively simple brushstrokes evoking depths of feeling: “When Dad went away, my mother was suddenly extinguished, like a candle blown out by a gust of frosty wind.”

In keeping with Skármeta’s framework style, humor occurs in discrete pockets; it insinuates, never shouts, as when Jacques explains why his second job is necessary: “A nurse in the hospital initiated me into the vice of smoking cheap cigarettes, and in order to support this habit—which gave me bronchitis—I’ve had to find a second job.” And when he speaks of his attempts to have his own poems published: “Sometimes I include an original poem of my own in the envelope with my translations and ask the editor to consider publishing it. His response, though negative, is courteous, given that he never rejects my poems and never prints them either.”

Eloquent of loss and bewilderment, Skármeta’s sentences are succinct while simultaneously offering pleasant surprises in their keen observations. These astute sentences regularly bring you up short, packing an unexpected wallop: “Everybody around here is very respectable, and I have no doubt that Teresa and Elena come from a good family, but every time they go to Santiago, they buy dresses with plunging necklines and tight jeans that cling to their hips and squeeze the air out of my lungs.”

Jacques’s floundering attempts to become his own man, without the guidance of his father, lead him into questionable alliances and situations, liaisons that, while not necessarily dangerous, do threaten to expose secrets that are held close by every small town. In the end, Jacques asserts himself, instead of letting events control him, and engineers a generous and loving orchestration of his own.

This review first appeared in Monkeybicycle. show less

Adott egy ország, amelynek kegyetlen diktátora demokráciát játszik: hogy rendbe tegye rendszere legitimációját a külhon szemében, népszavazást ír ki, és a tizeniksz ellenzéki párt számára kegyesen biztosít is 15, azaz tizenöt perc műsoridőt a televízióban. Összesen. A tizeniksz párt (konzervatívok, liberálisok, kereszténydemokraták, stb.) összefog, és megkísérli kihozni a maximumot a szituból – megbízzák az ország legzseniálisabb marketingesét, hogy show more rittyentsen nekik valami elementáris kampányvideót, amitől majd becsábul a lanyha nép a szavazófülkékbe. És miközben az agg diktátor terrorizmussal riogat és káoszt vizionál, a Reklámok Paganinije birokra kel a lehetetlennel: megkísérel inspirálni egy olyan országot, ami a rezsim évtizedei alatt elveszítette hitét a politikában, és már csak azért sem látja értelmét egy népszavazásnak, mert reményei szerint pár éven belül úgyis megpattan innen valami emberibb világba. És ez az ország pedig nem más, mint… (hatásszünet, trallala) …nos, aki azt mondta, hogy Magyarország, az nem olvasott figyelmesen – mondtam, hogy itt az ellenzéki pártok szövetségre léptek egymással. Hanem Chile.

Biztos vagyok benne, hogy miközben Skármeta írta ezt a regényt, lelki szemei előtt a Hollywood felirat lebegett (de minimum egy „chilei kultregény” címke). Az egész szöveg annyira gördülékeny, lélekemelő*, felületes és kiszámított, hogy attól minden jóérzésű forgatókönyvírónak hevesen kezd verni a piciny szíve. Tipikus filmes klisékkel dolgozik: hőseink reménytelen helyzetbe navigálják magukat, mert mélyről indulva fénylik igazán a katarzis, van továbbá egy szimpatikus halálraítélt statiszta is, aki csak azért szimpatikus, hogy az olvasónak fájjon a halála, és maga is érdekeltté váljon a rendszer megbuktatásában. Skármeta elég ravasz továbbá ahhoz, hogy a reklámszakember szála mellett indítson egy személyesebb vonalat is, amelynek főszereplői chilei gimnazisták – ők hozzák földközelbe a történetet azzal, hogy a maguk fiatalos problémáit (szex, rendszerkritika, rock&roll) is a regény részévé teszik a magaspolitika mellett. Kellemes szöveg, jó olvasni, csak az emberfia ne várjon tőle különösebb komplexitást. Ha valakinek olyanja van, akár Szrgya Popovics forradalmár-könyvének könnyített változataként is olvashatja.

* Ide még sok szinonimát be lehetne illeszteni – morózusabb értékelők bizonnyal a „giccs” szót sem tartanák túlzásnak. Felmerülhet továbbá a „naiv” vagy „idealista” jelző is, de Pinochet diktatúráját nagy vonalakban valóban a fenn leírt módszerekkel döntötték meg, tehát a történelem tulajdonképpen tanúskodik a szerző mellett. show less

People Pedro knows are being taken away by the government. It’s a scary time. Then a general comes to Pedro’s school and announces a contest for the best composition. The theme? What My Family Does at Night.

This little picture book shines. It could have easily been a diatribe against dictatorships

but the author makes his point without lecturing. And, in the process, he shares little moments in the lives of families during this scary time.

Here’s a little bit from the story, with Pedro show more talking to his friend about the essay.

“What are you going to write?” he (Pedro) asked.

“Anything,” said Juan. “How about you?”

“I don’t know,” said Pedro.

“What did your parents do yesterday?” asked Juan.

“Same as usual. They came home, they are, they listened to the radio, they went to bed.”

“Just like my mother.”

My mother started crying,” said Pedro.

“Mothers are always crying,” said Juan.

“I hardly ever cry,” said Pedro. “I haven’t cried for a year.”

“What about if I hit you and you get a black eye. Would you cry then?” asked Juan.

“Why would you do that when you’re my friend?” said Pedro.

“That’s true. I wouldn’t,” answered Juan. show less

Pedro is a somewhat small 9 year old (or that's what the neighborhood boys say, at least) who loves soccer and loves spending time with his family. But when neighborhood folks start to be taken away by the military, Pedro begins to have a nagging feeling something bad is happening. Pedro uses wit and communication skills to learn more about the political environment and support his family and friends.

A beautifully written and illustrated tale that drew me in from the start to finish, with show more unexpected depth and a profound theme of standing up to abuses of power at any age. show less