Carlos María DomínguezRecensioner

Kurze Inhaltsangabe
In dieser Erzählung wird Bluma Lennon ein Opfer ihrer Literatur-Obsession: Bluma, eine Cambridge-Lehrerin, hatte ein Gedichtband von Emily Dickinsons erstanden, las sogleich weltentrückt darin… und wurde beim Überqueren der Straße überfahren. Nach ihrem Tod erhält ihr Ex-Geliebter eine mit Mörtel verschmutzte Ausgabe von Joseph Conrads (über den Bluma promovieren wollte) Buch „The Line of the Shadow“. In das Buch hatte Bluma eine mysteriöse Widmung geschrieben: "Carlos als Andenken an die verrückten Tage in Monterrey." Fasziniert von dieser Widmung, geht er auf die Suche nach Hinweisen auf die Identität und das Schicksal dieses Carlos, den Bluma bei einem Schriftstellerkongress kennengelernt hatte.
Nach einer Weile erfährt er schließlich von Carlos Brauer. Er hatte eine riesige Bibliothek und einen unglaublichen Fimmel: Er verwendete Monate darauf, für seine Bücher eine völlig neue inhaltliche Ordnungs-Systematik zu entwickeln – Bücher verfeindeter Autoren sollen nicht nebeneinanderstehen müssen, die "Gefühle" müssen zueinander passen. Als er mit seinem Katalog fast fertig war, vernichtet ein Brand beinahe seine Sammlung. Das Feuer konnte aber rechtzeitig gelöscht werden und die Bücher blieben erhalten. Doch die Ordnungs-Systematik war verloren. Aus Verzweiflung verkaufte er sein Haus und zog mitsamt seiner Bibliothek ans Meer. Dort baute er aus den Büchern und Mörtel ein Haus. Nun hat die Bibliothek einen praktischen Nutzen, ist ihm Schutz, Obdach und Heim. Eines Tages sucht er ein bestimmtes Buch und schlägt deshalb an diversen Stellen Löcher in die Wände, irgendwann findet er es, er bringt es kurz darauf zur Post... Adresse Bluma Lennon. Die Schäden, die er mit der Entnahme des Buches an seinem Haus aus Papier angerichtet hatte, ließen sich nicht mehr beheben, weil das Verschwinden des einen Buches sich nicht wieder gut machen lässt. Mit dem Haus verschwindet auch sein Besitzer.

Mentioned in a book about books, I can't remember which now. A short story about obsessions, book ones and others. A decent diversion, and a quick, well-written read. But, no Borges. Not a life-changer. Better stories of bibliomania in the works of Basbanes, but charming nevertheless. That's the word: charming. If you like books a tad too much, a nice read. Charmingly illustrated.

Contaba Guillermo Cabrera Infante que mientras vivió en Londres Había dedicado una habitación de su casa a biblioteca. En ella las estanterías cubrían las paredes, los libros se amontonaban en los estantes, sobre la mesa, en las sillas, formando pilas por los rincones. En cierta ocasión el hijo de la vecina que ocasionalmente bajaba a la casa del escritor descubrió la biblioteca. El pequeño, perplejo, no pudo menos que exclamar: “Esto es una casa libro”.

“La casa de papel” nos habla de bibliotecas particulares, de las múltiples formas de ordenar los libros, muchas de ellas conforme a una lógica que sólo entiende su dueño, de manías y obsesiones de los lectores, de lecturas queridas y otras olvidadas. Su lectura me trae a la memoria la interesante opinión de Augusto Monterroso:

“Existen los que dicen no haber vivido sino la vida de los libros. Yo no: he vivido, odiado y amado, gozado y sufrido por mí mismo; y he sido y mi vida ha sido eso; pero a medida que pasa el tiempo me doy cuenta de que siempre lo he hecho como si todo -incluso en las ocasiones de mayor sufrimiento y en el momento mismo de ocurrir- fuera el material de un cuento, de una frase o de una línea. Ignoro si esto es bueno o malo, si me gusta o no”

Algo parecido sucede a los personajes de “La casa de papel”.Un pequeño gran libro en el que todo letraherido se sentirá seducido, atrapado al verse reflejado en alguna de las lentes del espejo poliédrico que forman los libros y las relaciones con ellos.

BUKU YANG MENARIK SEKALIGUS MENGERIKAN.



Novel ini cukup sering muncul dilaman goodreads saya dengan review yang bagus dan rating 4/5. Karena penasaran saya memutuskan untuk order.


Penggila buku dan para tsundoku bacalah buku ini :)


Selain ceritanya yang tentang seorang yang benar-benar penggila buku ceritanya yang menarik dan bisa membuat penggila buku yang membacanya mengeryit, heran atau bahkan ngeri :) Gaya penulisannya bagus, menambah satu bintang untuk novel ini.

Ada satu paragraf yang sudah kubaca berulang - ulang tetap juga tidak kumengerti maksudnya.

----> "Seminggu setelah itu aku sudah berada di Buenos Aires, mendapati kota itu lebih kemilau dan modern, sementara ibuku lebih patah arang begitu pula kawan-kawanku, seolah-olah lalu lintas yang melumpuhkan, sinar-sinar lampu, televisi di bar-bar, mendapati dalam keputusasaan warganya paru-paru tempat kota menghela udara yang dibutuhkannya untuk berkembang."

I loved this little novella that imagines a scenario where bibliomania is carried too far. But, there's lots we book lovers can relate to, also.

"Books change people's destinies. Some have read The Tiger of Malaysia and become professors of literature in remote universities. Demian converted tens of thousands of young men to Eastern philosophy, Hemingway made sportsmen of them, Alexander Dumas complicated the lives of thousands of women, quite a few of whom were saved from suicide by cookbooks."

The lovely, but symbolic rather than literal interpretation of the text, illustrations by Peter Sis complement this novella.

I believe this is the only one of Carlos Maria Dominguez's works that is translated in English, and unfortunately apparently out of print as well. The House of Paper , which was also published under the title The Paper House is definitely worth hunting down an used copy.½

http://www.mytwostotinki.com/?p=1532

Are you a bookworm? Great, then we have a thing in common! Are you a bibliophile, a person who loves books? You are not alone! Are you a book collector? Yes, I also belong to that species! Are you a bibliomane? Uh-oh, then you might be in trouble!

According to Wikipedia, “bibliomania can be a symptom of obsessive–compulsive disorder which involves the collecting or even hoarding of books to the point where social relations or health are damaged.” Next to this definition you see a photo of some bookshelves with the neat caption: “Cluttered bookshelf, one symptom of bibliomania.” – No, the photo was not taken at my home – since even cluttering my bookshelves isn’t sufficient anymore for all the books at my place…

Bibliophilia or bibliomania can even have tragic consequences, in fiction and in real life; Peter Kien in Elias Canetti’s Auto-da-fe comes to mind, as well as the real-life biblio-criminals Don Vicente or Magister Tinius, two priests who committed murder out of an insane compulsion to increase their libraries. (Isn’t it interesting that of all people two priests are the most extreme cases of book-insanity?)

The small and charming book The Paper House by Carlos Maria Dominguez (with beautiful illustrations by Peter Sis) fits very well here.

The ingredients: Bluma Lennon, an attractive female English literature professor with a – in the true sense of the word - fatal love of the poetry of Emily Dickinson; her Argentinian part-time lover and successor at the university who is the narrator of the story; a stained and gritty copy of Joseph Conrad’s The Shadow Line; and Carlos Brauer, an Uruguyan book collector who sent this strange copy to Bluma.

While on a visit at home in Buenos Aires, the narrator uses the opportunity to go to Montevideo and investigates about Brauer who was obviously in a kind of relationship with Bluma. What he learns from the owner of an antiquarian bookshop in the Uruguayan capital, and a book collector who knew Brauer well, makes the narrator – and the reader! – more and more curious; and when he finally discovers the House of Paper to which the title alludes, Brauer has become a real mystery. Of course I will not give away the full story here – but for addicted readers like you this small book will be a treat, that’s for sure.

The House of Paper is a very enjoyable novella that I read in one sitting. For all of you that have an issue with bibliomania, the book may be also of educational value. Carlos Maria Dominguez is a very productive Argentinian author who lives in Uruguay. The House of Paper makes me curious to read more of his books. If I am not mistaken, this is the only book by him so far translated in English; two of his novels and another book with stories are available in German.

This short little book (103 pages and many of those are illustrations) is a book about books. I quote:

"It is often much harder to get rid of books than to acquire them. They stick to us in that pact of need and oblivion we make with them, witnesses to a moment in our lives we will never see again."

This is how I feel sometimes when I realize that I must own a book that I have already read from the library, even if I never read it again.

And again:

"For me the greatest joy is to be able to submerge myself for a few hours every day in a human time that otherwise would be alien to me. A lifetime is not enough."

Enough said!

Carlos Maria Dominguez
The House of Paper

Fiction
Carlos Maria Dominquez turns prose into poetry. He bequeaths visual treasures that you will turn over and over in your mind's eye as if exploring the facets of a rare gem. The House of Paper is a mystery, a quest, a dreamlike parable, and an expose of bibliomania. Take comfort that the characters and locales are exotic because the psychology and motivation will be disarmingly personal. Curiosity, passion, obsession, fear, and the sordid degradation and murder of that most cherished is all contained in these few pages beginning with the most intriguing of first lines:
"One day in the spring of 1998, Bluma Lennon bought a secondhand copy of Emily Dickinson's poems in a bookshop in Soho, and as she reached the second poem on the first street corner, she was knocked down by a car."
Warning: This book is infusive and in the event that you ever need a transplant will render you only compatible with other people who have been exposed to this book's transformative power.
Recommended January 2006

A lovely and somewhat disturbing book. very short. It makes its point in a magical realism sort of way and then like a whisper, it is gone.

The book is about the unfortunate and sudden death of Blouma Lennon, a lecturer in Hispanic Studies in Cambridge. She was run over by a car as she was crossing a street whilst reading a book of Emily Dickinson poetry.

What follows is a bizarre narrative concerning bibliophiles and their obsessive whims. The author/narrator answers some of the questions he raises but not all of it. It was a fun and interesting read. I am sure I will stay up nights obsessing over it, but then again, I obsess over a lot of things.

Ich hatte gerade den ersten Satz gelesen, als ich laut loslachen musste. Was für ein Beginn für ein Buch!!! Zum besseren Verständnis:
'Im Frühjahr 1998 kaufte Bluma Lennon in einer Buchhandlung von Soho eine alte Ausgabe der Gedichte von Emiliy Dickinson und wurde an der ersten Straßenecke, als sie gerade beim zweiten Gedicht angelangt war, von einem Auto überfahren.'
Welch ein Tod für Bücherwürmer ;-) Doch nicht jedes Buch führt zu solch radikalen Konsequenzen, aber in doch vielen Fällen zu durchaus markanten Einschnitten im Leben der Lesenden. Davon handelt diese Erzählung: welchen Einfluss Bücher haben, wie sie nach und nach das Leben eines Menschen in Besitz nehmen können bis kaum noch etwas anderes Raum einnimmt. Wie es auf unerklärliche Weise immer mehr werden, jedes Regal zu klein wird und über kurz oder lang keine freie Wand mehr vorhanden ist.
Das Ganze ist verpackt in eine stimmungsvolle, poetisch erzählte Geschichte über die Suche nach der Herkunft eines Buches, die nach Uruguay führt und in deren Verlauf man Personen kennenlernt, deren Bücherverrücktheit kaum Grenzen zu kennen scheint. Für die weniger Bücherbesessenen mag dies eher phantastisch klingen, alle anderen aber werden diese Erzählung vermutlich realistischer sehen und wahrscheinlich gewisse Ähnlichkeiten mit der eigenen Person feststellen. Mir ist es zumindest so ergangen ;-)

This is an amazing book about obsession. Our unnamed protagonist receives a book in a strange condition, and decides to find out who sent it and why. He discovers the sender, Mr. Bauer and his obsession with books. This short book is about the power of books to shape our lives. Beautiful writing.

A book about books, the different meanings that books have for us. How an addiction for books can be taken too far, so maybe a bit of a precautionary tale as well. A very interesting book, with vivid and quotable prose.½

all'inizio non mi ha colpito...ma poi capisci la sua vera essenza il suo richiamo. una restituzione di un libro che era stato conficcato insieme ad altre migliaia come mura di una casa. appunto la casa di carta. ma dietro c'è unossessione profonda per i libri la bramosia di tenerli di averli di viverli.
c'è n passaggio dove si parla delle differenze nel tenere e possedere un libro se toccarlo appena oppure se annotarlo. ritornando alla restituzione questa avviene e determina il crollo di questa casa e la'bbandono del sogno...... bello e intrigante. il libro e di conhran. libro da paura½

Een boek wordt opgestuurd in de mortel gestoken. Het verhaal van een passie voor boeken en het gevaar van boeken. Heel leuk om te lezen.

ein mal ganz anderes buch, sehr interessant und eigenwillig½

A House of Paper is a whimisical, soulful paean to books and their lovers, and especially those of us "who have loved books not wisely but too well." Anyone who is not just a reader, but a lover of the book form; from the pathways of white through the text, to the smell of the ink and paper, to the different qualities of whiteness of the pages, to say nothing of the bindings,in other words, those of us who are not rushing out to buy Kindles, will find a hundred little moments in this book where she feels she has met a kndred spirit.

True to the South American soul there is that element of tilted reality which lends a piquant nature to the story, which is further complimented by the Peter Sis surreal illustrations

al is het verhaal op zich vaak meer een excuus om enkele boekenweetjes te spuien, de novelle van Dominguez verveelt geen moment, en zijn personages - hoe vaag hun beschrijvingen ook mogen blijven - zijn nu reeds klassiek te noemen. (De bibliofiel Diego, incl. zijn smetteloze bibliotheek en zijn witte pak, was me nog goed bekend van de eerste lezing. Het zoeken naar 'gangen' op de bladzijden - de ruimtes die tussen de woorden ontstaan en waarvan sommigen beweren dat zij een waardemeter voor de stijl van de schrijver zijn - is in mijn lezen een automatisme geworden, misschien wel sinds het lezen van dit boek ... en Brauer, ach - ook Brauer kende ik nog, hoe hij daar met het boek Don Quixote aan de eettafel zit, elk een glas wijn voor zich: één glas voor zichzelf, en één voor het boek ...)

http://occamsrazorlibrary.blogspot.com/2010/04/het-papieren-huis.html

A story about how books can change a person's life ad also how a person can change the ''life'' of books. About the passion for books and a bibliophile's loss of reason that leads him to build a house out of his library, literaly: by cementing his books into the walls of his residence. A beautiful and at points disturbing story that left me pondering about the ephemeral nature of much of humanity's treasures.

a beautiful "little" book. i can relate to it. i love spying in people's book shelves and there's an scene about that that shows my fear/rush when i perform that task.

A literature professor receives a package addressed to his deceased colleague. Inside he finds a book. With little information to go on, the professor travels to Uruguay to return the book to its sender. This little novel is a bibliophile's delight. Lots of talk about books and libraries. Yum.

And this is the other book I bought after reading Susan Hill's book-about-not-buying-books Howard's End Is On The Landing. I feel quite proud at having stopped at just two. And after finishing The Paper House, probably relieved that I went no further.

I'm sure some pedant somewhere will take umbrage with The Paper House's self-description of itself as a novel. It barely breaks the hundred page barrier, taking the plentiful full page illustrations into account it probably wouldn't even get close to that. And, for such a short novel, it moves at a somewhat languid pace. Yet it has much to say about bibliophiles and the love of books, but never feels forced or hurried in what it says. It probably helps that it's a translation from a Spanish language original and, as with the few other authors I've read whose first language is of Mediterranean origin, the language feels poetic, helping to compress ideas and meaning without . How much of this is down to the author and how much the translator is difficult to know (perhaps translators have in mind that all South American authors should be as strange and beautiful as Marquez or Borges), but it's a stylistic translation tic I adore. It's a feeling of craftsmanship with words that never gets tired for me, but might be too rich for other readers, one that makes me feel there are sensations, feelings and happenings that the English language is inadequate for. In this case, the brevity means that richness never quite cloys as it does in longer, denser works from the South American continent. Adding to the slight dislocation caused by thoughts and ideas from one language being translated to another is the tale's structure. There's no real action, it simply follows the main character as he tries to track down the origins of a mysterious book sent to a colleague of his. Much of this involves him being told stories by others who knew the story of the man who sent the book, so the story at the heart of the book is always told at one remove, through the eyes of others.

For all that, it's strangely compelling. Well, it would be for me since my bibliophilia meant I could empathise with the book collectors and lovers here, even if not always with their reasons. There's always a grim fascination with getting to the heart of a man in the grip of a mania, as the mysterious Carlos Brauer is. It's the love of books taken to the logical conclusion, once he's obsessed over them to the point of anthropomorphising his books to the point where his personal index system means authors with grudges or disagreements with one another cannot be shelved next to each other (Shakespeare and Marlowe to pick merely the most obvious example). He ends up living alone in a house of his books, within the worlds of paper and words. And yet the most troubling aspect is that it's clear he loves the books, he's not merely a collector. He reads and annotates them, to the obvious disapproval of the book collector who narrates part of his story to the main character. We never meet Brauer, never even come close to it, never know anything about him but his obsessive all consuming passion for literature, but this aspect of his personality's lucidly realised. He even predicts the exact manner of the death that begins the book, another logical end to an obsession.

Also integral to the book are the illustrations. Starting with the cover, they're allusive, illustrating the text without ever being straightforward. It's an approach I'm not overly familiar with from English literature, but it's a refreshing and engaging approach which complements the textual style of this book (and the South American literature that's been translated).

It almost feels wrong that a book exploring the love of books dwells so much on the unhealthy aspects of it, it's almost an anti-book in parts. It'd no doubt raise a smile from my long suffering wife as books continue to pile up around the house. Actually that's a touch unfair, if anything it's a parable about the dangers of obsession lensed through a literary passion probably drawn from the author himself. But in warning of the perils an obsession with beauty, it finds a strange beauty of its own.

This is a little gem of a book. I love the little illustrations throughout which just add to the joy of the text. The concept of judging a book by its pathways and the idea of not putting books by authors who disagreed in real life together is also lovely. I also really liked the idea that everything in the story wasn't wrapped up too neatly, as this has reinforced just how unsettling this story is, especially for someone who has far too many books already.

I really enjoyed reading this book. The house built out of paper is a something of a conceit of how we get taken by our book collections. Can the structure of our books be permanent? How do weigh their physciality versus their information. What makes for a great collection and how do we access it and preserve it for ourselves, and maybe for others. It is layed in Argentina and Uruguay and is something of a window into an intellectual life with a different, if not more, texture than we encompass in the United States. There is a quest to find what happened to Carlos Brauer's books and the man. And we find a dissolution. But a great ride in getting there.½

“One day in the spring of 1998, Bluma Lennon bought a secondhand copy of Emily Dickinson’s poems in a bookshop in Soho, and as she reached the second poem on the first street corner, she was knocked down by a car.”

Its a slim book, that much is true, hardly over 100 pages. And yet in these hundred pages, are some of the most beautiful and interesting reflections I have ever read; reflections on books, life, love and obsession. The book starts us at the death of Bluma Lennon, a teacher in London, tragically killed in a car accident. Several weeks later, the narrator, her replacement, receives a package addressed to her: a book covered in Portland cement. As the narrator attempts to track down who exactly sent the package, first because he hopes to let them know of Bluma’s tragic death, and later because the quest begins to obsess him.

As he attempts to track down the sender, a mysterious Uruguayan bibliophile, he begins to see the relationship between the written word and life in a different light, and what it means to be obsessed, only to lose it all.

This is a true classic, a must have for all book lovers.