Horacio Castellanos Moya (born ) is a Salvadoran novelist, short story writer , and El asco, Thomas Bernhard en San Salvador, (Revulsion: Thomas Bernhard in San Salvador, English translation by Lee Klein published by New. Abstract: Salvadoran writer Horacio Castellanos Moya offers a provocative example of postwar cynicism in his novel El asco: Thomas Bernhard en San. Fouling One’s Own Nest: On Translating Horacio Castellanos Moya the three other books by Moya that Bolaño had read, he deemed El asco.
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Goodreads helps you keep track of books you want to read. Want to Read saving…. Want to Read Currently Reading Read. Refresh and try again. Open Preview See a Problem? Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. Preview — El asco by Horacio Castellanos Moya. El Salvador le resulta a Vega despreciable, arremete contra todo: Published first published To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about El ascoplease sign up. Lists with This Book.
Psyched to see it made James Wood’s list of favorites for View all 19 comments. Aug 13, M. Lee allowed me the opportunity to read this work before he found a publisher for it. I am so glad he did. An incessant rant by a character named Edgardo Vega directed to, I suppose, anybody who might be listening, but in this case even more pointedly at the character Moya himself as receptor. It is also the author Moya who is relating this tale, though the words come all from the mouth of Vega.
Early on I was a myoa distracted by the obvious attempt at a Bernhardian rant, but I continued on with my reading in the spirit of some of my own vitriol and those of others I have known axco have let it all out and used me as their sounding board. Thomas Bernhard yoracio wasn’t the first person to ever behave this way in person, but perhaps he was the first we serious readers had noticed doing so on the page. I continued on with my reading of Revulsion because I have known several inflicted people like this who would not have a clue who Bernhard is and would most likely care less if they did.
These people for the most part do not read and are not interested in anything but the made-for-TV film version to make its way on to their cable network.
Fouling One’s Own Nest: On Translating Horacio Castellanos Moya – PEN America
In the end, what is important to me is what the rant is dealing with, from which the complaint derives it substance from, and if the rant can sustain itself and keep me interested. Obviously, this rant did or I would not be writing about it.
I have a mentor who is extremely judgmental, said to be tyrannical even, and refuses to read translations of any stripe. The irony in his rigid stance here is that he says to all he teaches to that he loves the work of Gilles Deleuze and Thomas Bernhard, just to name two, and both of these writers are not of the same English-speaking ilk that he is. The work of both of these writers has been translated, one from the French and the horaccio from the German, and I know for a fact my famous friend knows no other language than his own.
So when I express to him my delight in finding new authors, new for me anyway and an exercise he seems to encourage and respect, new foreign writers for me such as Moya, or Walser, Sebald or Zweig, translated authors who flat knock me out, my mentor is not castsllanos and refuses to even take a look at them. Or if I were to inform him that a certain someone such as Moya has written an amazing book such as Senselessness that brings to mind the rantings of a lunatic not heard of since Bernhard made his mark on him he would say, without castellznos doubt in my mind, that these types of rantings on the page are best left to the Bernhard master of them all and for others to do something unforgettable on their own of merit and to quit copying horacioo others have done before them.
The problem for me with this statement is that the fiction of my own good friend is often compared to Bernhard and whose words are constantly reminded of the great Austrian especially in his sometimes uniquely personal and intensely crazy rantings of his own.
The way I look at all this discussion above of who did what and if it is meritorious or not comes down to simply whether or not it has its own voice and if the subject is interesting. When I read Thomas Bernhard I hear his voice, and what he speaks of is instructive and tantalizing.
When Max Sebald reveals his disdain for something or other I hear his particular voice and find his arguments and complaints castellwnos captivating as well. And to be fair I will even mention myself and the character of Ponzil in Shorter Prose I published only recently. What I do not understand however is why this novel Revulsion has not been published in our English language yet.
I have read the reasoning and explanation provided by Lee Klein who has transcribed his well-worded English translation of Moya’s book and has so far not found a publisher to make it available to readers of our own language.
It is striking to me to note that Bernhard was beloved by his own country, and many prizes were bestowed on him which Bernhard also used against them. Perhaps the greatest difference between the writers mentioned above and the writer Moya is that in this particular story there wasn’t anything mentioned of worth beholden to his country.
Not only did Vega hate the people, he hated the geography and the weather. It is possible there is far too much truth in Vega’s words, and Moya’s countrymen simply do not appreciate it.
But why the great powers of North America care about putting a bad light on El Salvador is beyond me. It isn’t something I am accustomed my own country, in general, caring two hoots about. All of us, at times, might csstellanos a moment for expressing our rants. But the onus is on the uoracio to make our tirades interesting and well-written if they are to be actually published in a book.
The voice must be our own. But come on here, ranting is ranting. Crazy talk is crazy talk. I confess that voicing my own hatred and vitriol at times feels rather good and freeing, and is something I also like to read of others doing in order to assuage or rid myself of my own personal misanthropic feelings for my fellow countrymen and certain obstacles in my path in realizing my innermost desires.
Just because Thomas Bernhard has performed his rantings on the page in the most gifted of literary form is horacioo a good enough reason for other writers to not speak their own mind or express what their bodies are provoking in these quivering and twitching mannerisms incessantly invading them. It is a breath of fresh horacjo for me, though I am positive there are examples of this style that are purely unacceptable, and I am also sure there is enough poor work I would absolutely detest and scorn if given the opportunity to read it.
But not this one. This book was good. Especially Edgardo Vega relating to us his ride on the crowded plane to San Salvador and the disgusting fellow passengers spreading their own sweaty filth on our unfortunate and terminally unhappy narrator.
Thank you Lee Klein.
Fouling One’s Own Nest: On Translating Horacio Castellanos Moya
View casstellanos 13 comments. May 27, Nathan “N. I never could accept that of the hundreds of countries where I might have been born I was born in the worst country of all, the stupidest, the most criminal, which is why I went to Montreal, well before the war began, not in search horacioo better economic conditions, but because I never accepted the macabre twist of fate of being born here.
View all 3 comments.
I think of that as a sad compliment. It is also interesting to think that although “Thomas Bernhard” is such a miserable and disagreeable horacik, he occasionally has some useful cultural critiques. I guess to a degree it’s in how you choose to see the world. I was once writing a paper for school and turned to ask a friend Mkya was sitting with if it was crazy to say I believe Only certain A.
I was once writing a paper for school and turned to ask a friend I was sitting with if it was crazy to say I believe that humans are inherently good; to which, my friend replied that well, it was the complete opposite of everything he believes, which, I get where he is coming from, but he is also a pretty big activist for animal rights and saving their habitats, which I think is a pretty good thing.
Una maravillosa bomba este libro. Ojo, no es para nacionalistas, ni para gente sin humor, que en definitiva no omya van a entender. Yo lo recomiendo mucho. Apr 29, Nathan “N. I’ve not read Bernhard. I read this during the course of a day when, well, yep. He even sent me this copy gratis horaccio I just think is a generous thing to do. This little book is great.
Ever walk into a house without books? That household needs to be Bernhardized. The author received death I’ve not read Bernhard. The author received death threats on account of this book.
You’re not paying attention. View all 7 comments. As I was reading, I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. When I first read that Moya received death threats, I thought it seemed kind of silly based on the rant-y content — not something to take so mkya, surely? And if an American writer were to do the same type of book for here in a similar style?
I’m guessing that sadly some reactions toward violence might be the same. View all 5 comments. Mostly, I found myself thinking that I’d really rather just read Bernhard. Also I found that the constant reminders of reported speech he said, he said, he said, he said really threw off the rhythm, which is a shame because this narrator was not enjoyably detestable, but just detestable.
I also deducted an additional star for the sequence in the brothel at the end, which nearly made me vomit, as well as for telling us explicitly in the last sentence what has been perfectly obvious all along.
B Mostly, I found myself thinking that I’d really rather just read Bernhard. But then perhaps the author thinks us all as stupid as his creation. An excellent novella that exceeded my expectations. Novelists should as much as possible avoid reading Thomas Bernhard. Thomas Bernhard in San Salvador caught my eye since I manage a reader’s web site for Bernhard, though I feared the worst Moya has fallen into the Bernhard trap and produced a work with all the repetition and vehemence of a Bernhard work without the essential qualities, so, a rant, an outrageous rant, an insulting outrageous rant, without paragraphs, but not really Bernhardian and, in this case, bare Novelists should as much as possible avoid reading Thomas Bernhard.
Moya has fallen into the Bernhard trap and produced a work with all the repetition and vehemence of a Bernhard work without the essential qualities, so, a rant, an outrageous rant, an insulting outrageous rant, without paragraphs, but not really Bernhardian and, in this case, barely a novel.
This is the third time I’ve read a novel claiming Bernhard lineage, and it’s probably the least successful of all. Moreover, it’s a one-joke book, and the joke is given away in the “disclaimer” that precedes the text, the joke, such as it is, being an exiled El Salvadoran writer with Canadian citizenship taking the name of Bernhard, who took upon himself the task of excoriating his non-native Austria despite being a citizen of that religion- and fascism-tormented realm.
As has been observed, such vehement hatred goes more or less full circle and we may be sure that Moya delights in El Salvador as much as Bernhard did dastellanos Austria, both deeply wounded disappointed lovers. As Moya says in an afterword, castellamos writes short novels, and one has to wish he stuck with something long enough, in terms of numbers of pages as well as attention, to get deeper into what he’s thinking and what he’s doing with the thinking.
This is my second Moya, and while I’ll persist and read more, I’ll be looking for the longest he’s written, hoping that with more attention over more pages, he’ll rise a little above the clever.