“A book is a slow, unavoidable catastrophe,” we read in a late entry to On Elegance While Sleeping, Viscount Lascano Tegui’s fictional diary. The book is. Emilio Lascano Tegui is the author of On Elegance While Sleeping ( avg rating, ratings, 30 reviews, published ). Lascano Tegui de is the author of Muchacho de San Telmo. ( avg rating, 1 rating, 0 reviews, published ) and El Libro Celeste ( avg rating.

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After all, there are not that many Argentinian modernists whose names trip readily off the tongue for anyone in Europe besides perhaps Clive James, and Viscount Tegui was fairly obscure even in Argentina. And although the narrator is a misfit whose maladaptation to the world climaxes in an act of vicious cruelty, he nevertheless wonders—plaintively?

The complete review ‘s Review:. On Lessons Learned and Not Learn I inherited his enormous delight in neatness. And he spends much of the latter part of his musings planning to write a book, hoping that art will be a way out of his own illness and unhappiness.

On Elegance While Sleeping by Viscount Lascano Tegui

Hair is a recurring image in the novel, and serves as a mark of contingency and change. Even knowing that this, too, will have been in vain.

Now, originality is a lascanno attribute, not necessarily wholly desirable for its own sake as lascxno Johnson’s acidic formula: This makes life itself an artistic project of sorts.

He is a bookish sort, from his childhood attempts to “undermine my appearance” by adopting the wardrobes of the characters in whatever novels he was reading to his own writerly ambitions he’s thinking about writing: It offers an intriguing look at a somewhat obscure Argentinean avant-garde novel and an interesting counterpoint to other literature of the period.

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Emilio Lascano Tegui – Wikipedia

Among the things they also drag in are the corpses, and when he was a youth the writer showed a remarkable ability to find and fish these out — something that made him one of the villages “favorite sons”. N o, I hadn’t heard of him either. Lascaano writer is from the Parisian suburb Bougival: For although the book ends in murder, we can doubt whether it happened, as in American Psycho.


Unlike other works of the period, which were so often preoccupied with speed or vigor or the urban landscape as a metaphor for human progress, this little diary has more in common with earlier Wildean decadence: The writer tries his best — “No, no verse!

Yet the playful note struck in the epigraph does not disappear from the rest of the book, despite the descent into madness portrayed. On Elegance While Sleeping – Canada. Take the following entry: But it is the humdrum of everyday life that is its greatest failing.

Orthofer8 January While it is presented in diary-form, with relatively short, dated entries, these are concerned less with the protagonist’s present than his past: De la elegancia mientras se duerme – US.

From the self-penned epigraph “I write out of pure voluptuousness. On Elegance While Sleeping is an odd work of fiction.

Such pronouncements endear the narrator to us and make him seem somewhat familiar. Like adults bereft of the elegant obliviousness of youth, civilizations seem to be doomed to ungraceful aging, and infancy only presages death: This is an examination of a peculiar kind of suburban tedium, where not even death can grab the attention of the old women looking out of their windows, where to love and to be loved are the highest blessings, and where what looks from a distance to be “a child, or a beautiful woman” turns out, on closer inspection, to be “nothing more than a small dog, a camera, or a bicycle”.

Take the following entry:. Novelists overplay their hands when they put an end to their characters with some catastrophe — a terrible fire, a murder, what have you. But Lascano Tegui’s elegant, sprightly style won’t allow for that: Kjell Askildsen, Selected Stories Here, at the midpoint of his narrative, Bernhard, the affectless and purposeless protagonist of It’s an effective — and effectively unsettling — approach, and just right for this narrator who maintains an equanimity of tone even when describing great horror, and yet who ultimately loses that composure in his desire to: Though he departs, as he often does, from among the shadowy figures of his childhood, the narrator is also ruminating here upon his own isolation from the world, a world that he can see but not touch or connect with.


Even the fish, we are told, are tired by the time they get there. And sometimes his pronouncements betray his preoccupations with change. Its dark green waters drag in the grime from that happy city. The book is constantly accounting for itself.

Let us just be as we are: Such is the happy monotony of my life.

On Elegance While Sleeping by Viscount Lascano Tegui – review

Winter always enticed me to the windows of my room, to watch the sad lives of the townspeople blanketed in snow, and so, in the months beforehand, I always made certain to prepare my observatory: His tegiu of a fragile, imperfect race of perverts and criminals is less an affectionate embrace for flawed humanity, or an affirmation of solidarity in folly, than it is an accusing finger, an indictment of lacano rush to condemn others without examining our own failings.

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