Ovo je jedna knjiga koja čitaoca baca u potpunu nedoumicu šta da misli... Nametnuta mi je na uređenje (nije bila moj izbor), ja je nikad ne bih objavila jer mi nije jasno kome je i čemu namenjena, a opet nije loše napisana... baš me zanima da li ju je neko od vas čitao, i šta vi mislite?malo teksta:1.Normu su povukli s programa tog utorka ujutru zbog jednog dečaka koji je ostavljen u radio-stanici. Bio je tih i mršav i držao je cedulju. Recepcionerka ga je pustila da prođe. Sazvan je sastanak.Sala za sastanke bila je dobro osvetljena, a kroz prozor s pogledom na istok, prema planinama, grad se video kao na dlanu. Kada je Norma ušla, Elmer je sedeo na čelu stola i trljao lice rukama kao da se upravo probudio iz nemirnog, nezadovoljavajućeg sna. Sela je, a on je klimnuo glavom u znak pozdrava, zevnuo i počeo da se igra čepom na bočici lekova koju je izvadio iz džepa. – Donesi mi vode – požalio se svom pomoćniku. – I isprazni pepeljere, Lene. Zaboga.Dečak je sedeo preko puta Elmera na neudobnoj drvenoj stolici i zurio u svoja stopala. Bio je sitan i krhke građe, očiju premalih za svoje lice. Glava mu je bila obrijana – kako bi se ubile vaške, pretpostavila je Norma. Iznad usana su mu se nazirali jedva vidljivi začeci brkova. Nosio je pohabanu košulju, a neporubljene pantalone pričvrstio je oko struka pertlom.Norma je sedela leđima okrenuta vratima, od svih najbliže dečaku, pogleda upravljenog ka belom gradu.Len se vratio s bokalom vode u rukama. Bila je puna mehurića i sivkasta. Elmer je nasuo čašu i progutao dve pilule. Nakašljao se u rukav. – Da pređemo na stvar – reče Elmer nakon što je Len seo. – Žao nam je što smo prekinuli vesti, Norma, ali želeli smo da upoznaš Viktora.– Dečače, reci joj koliko imaš godina – Len reče.– Jedanaest – odvratio je dečak jedva čujnim glasom. – Jedanaest i po.Len je pročistio grlo i bacio pogled ka Elmeru kao da time traži dozvolu da govori. Nakon što mu je šef klimnuo glavom, nastavio je. – To su odlične godine – reče Len. – Nego, došao si da vidiš Normu, zar ne?– Da – odvrati Viktor.– Poznaješ li ga?Norma nije poznavala dečaka.– Kaže da dolazi iz džungle – nastavio je Len. – Mislili smo da bi želela da ga upoznaš. Zbog emisije.– Sjajno – rekla je. – Hvala.Elmer je ustao i prišao prozoru. Bio je tek silueta spram zaslepljuće svetlosti. Norma je dobro poznavala tu panoramu: grad koji se pružao sve do horizonta i dalje. Kad čelo prislonite na staklo prozora, pogled vam seže niz ulicu sve do one široke avenije zakrčene saobraćajem i ljudima, autobusima i taksi-motorima i kolicima s povrćem. Ili se vidi život na gradskim krovovima: odeća okačena na žice pored zarđalih kaveza za piliće, starci koji igraju karte na paketima mleka, psi kako ljutito laju zuba, iskeženih na teškom morskom vazduhu. Jednom je čak videla čoveka kako sedi na svom žutom zaštitnom šlemu i grca u suzama.Šta god da je u tom trenutku video, Elmer nije pokazivao da je za to i zanteresovan.Okrenuo se ka njima. – Nije samo iz džungle, Norma. Dolazi iz Sela 1797.Norma se ispravila. – Šta pokušavaš da mi kažeš, Elmere?Za tu glasinu su znali da je tačna: masovne grobnice, bezimeni seljani, pobijeni i pobacani u jarkove. Naravno, nikada nisu izveštavali o tome. Niko nije. Već godinama nisu govorili o tome. Osetila je kako joj nešto pritiska grudi.– Verovatno nije ništa važno – reče Elmer. – Hajde da joj pokažemo cedulju.Viktor je izvadio parče papira iz džepa, verovatno ono isto koje je pokazao recepcionerki. Predao ga je Elmeru, koji je stavio naočare za čitanje i pročistio grlo. Pročitao je naglas:Draga gospođice Norma:Ovo dete se zove Viktor. On je iz Sela 1797 u istočnoj džungli. Mi, stanovnici Sela 1797, prikupili smo naše novce i poslali ga u grad. Želimo da Viktor ima bolji život. Ovde za njega nema budućnosti. Molimo pomozite nam. Prilažemo naš spisak izgubljenih ljudi. Možda će neko od ovih pojedinaca moći da se stara o dečaku. Slušamo Radio izgubljeni grad svake nedelje. Volimo vašu emisiju.Vaši najveći obožavaoci,Selo 1797– Norma – reče Elmer. – Žao mi je. Želeli smo lično da ti kažemo. Bio bi sjajan za emisiju, ali želeli smo da te prvo upozorimo.– U redu je – protrljala je oči i duboko udahnula. – U redu je.Norma je mrzela brojeve. Nekada, svaki je grad imao ime; nezgrapno, milenijumsko ime nasleđeno od bog će ga znati kog izumrlog naroda, imena teških suglasnika koji zvuče kao trenje kamena o kamen. Međutim, cela zemlja se modernizovala, pa i njeni zabačeni zakuci. Sve se odvijalo po završetku sukoba – bila je to nova politika vlade. Govorili su da ljudi zaboravljaju stare sisteme. Norma je sumnjala u to. – Znaš li kako se nekada zvalo tvoje selo? – upitala je dečaka.Viktor je odmahnuo glavom.Norma je na trenutak zatvorila oči. Verovatno su ga naučili da tako kaže. Kada se rat završio, vlada je zaplenila stare karte. Uklonjene su s polica Narodne biblioteke, građani su ih sami donosili, isecane su iz udžbenika i spaljivane. Norma je pratila dešavanja za potrebe radija, pomešala se s uzbuđenom masom koja se skupila na Novogradskom trgu da posmatra. Nekada, Viktorovo selo je imalo ime, ali ono je sada izgubljeno. Njen suprug Rej nestao je u blizini sela neposredno pre nego što je Nelegitimna legija (NL) pobeđena. Bilo je to pred kraj pobune, pre deset godina. Još uvek ga je čekala.– Jeste li dobro, gospođice Norma? – upita dečak tankim, piskavim glasom.Otvorila je oči.– Kakav ljubazan mladić – reče Len. Nagnuo se napred, naslonio laktove na sto i potapšao dečaka po ćelavoj glavi.
In an unnamed city in an unnamed South American country, Norma is the beloved on-air host of “Lost City Radio,” where the nation’s lost and tormented souls try to reconnect with loved ones they’ve lost track of. It is ten years since the most recent civil war ended – at least officially. But people still live in fear of reprisal and even Norma’s show isn’t immune to the sort of self-censorship that comes from self-preservation. Norma’s husband is among the missing, and she daren’t read his name aloud. The powerful thing about this book is that it is so universal. While it takes place in South America, it could take place in many countries around the world. Alarcon explores what it means to live in constant fear, trusting no one, afraid that any small slip of the tongue may mark you as the enemy or a collaborator, leaving you second-guessing every small gesture or the posture of that stranger on the street you’ve seen once too often recently. His use of the orphan boy, Victor, to trigger the memories of the adults he comes across is an effective technique. For like most children, Victor’s needs are simple and immediate. He doesn’t understand the larger implications of his mission to take a list of missing from his small mountain village to the large city radio station. He only knows that he is alone, and that this is his chance to find his father. Alarcon mixes tenses fluidly and sometimes within one paragraph. A remark or smell will trigger a memory and the text follows the character’s wandering mind as he or she remembers something that happened in the past. Then, just as suddenly as awakening from a dream, the action is back in the present and we are back on the bus headed for the city, or back in the café having lunch. It sounds as if this would be very confusing, but Alarcon is skilled at making this device work wonderfully. In the end, only the reader knows what happened to one missing person, while being left to wonder what will happen to the many.
Do You like book Lost City Radio (2007)?
I remember reading this in early bound galley form so there may have been changes between my edition and the final, published version. I initially soght out Alarcón's work because I learned that he was friends with friends from school who now lived in San Francisco. His short stories -- from the NYer, Tin House, etc. -- are taught and vivid (cf. WAR BY CANDLELIGHT). This first full length novel is about Norma, who hosts a radio program hoping to reunite those uprooted and disappeared in an unnamed Latin American country. It's a powerful, worth-reading debut, though it has a certain inevitability of plot that is either compelling in a tragic way or predictable in a world-lit kind of way. I liked it immensely and read it in two feverish, rainy days over Christmas break. Alarcon is a real talent (Full disclosure: I may be partial to him because he's an A's fan...)
—Tom Mayer
This book emphasizes the meaninglessness of war. Those who fight as well as those left behind are all tragic victims who suffer. This is a thought provoking book, esp in our present days of Arab spring, conflicts, revolutions & threatened uprisings. Some favorite quotes: "What does the end of a war mean if not that one side ran out of men willing to die?"....."a man handsome and vapid enough to be elected senator"....."The soldiers had spread about the room like ivy"....."In the local dialect, there were two kinds of WE: We that included YOU, and another, which did not."....."tiny streams of water drawn on the path like a system of veins". Not really a book I liked but respected.
—Barbara
"She had been here just the day before, but this is what life does to you: things happen all at once, and your sense of time is exploded."I wish someone gave me this quotation before I started reading this book. I paused before quoting it here...only because I feared it might be a philosophical spolier. When Alarcon writes it on page 245, it seems somewhat anticlimactic. I mean, I've now spent 97% of the novel whisking through time and space in a somewhat fictionalized, not-so-anonymous country in South America (*cough* Peru *cough*).But the rush I got when reading it still had that, "ahhhhh...everything's come together now" feeling. But I think you need to know it before you read it. In this wildly dystopic, political science fiction, fantastical, harrowing and ridiculously well written novel, you need all the grounding you can get at the outset. I would recommend this book to every. Single. Frickin'. Person who reads books.Look....people of the world: this is both an important and frustrating work. This isn't just fiction, it's the voice of a new America...one that's deepy empathetic; one that cares about the histories and fates of the people who continue to flood its shores. This isn't a book about immigration or globalization, but about a universal set of feelings that transcend borders, political beliefs and world-perspectives.Get lost in this prose...don't try to understand everything. Take the quotation from this review's exhibition and internalize it. Be swept away by this novel's sweeping timelessness.
—Ryan Louis
