The Part About Dreams

Following the guidance a book forum I occasionally browse, I elected to join a slow-read of 2666, the final novel of Roberto Bolano. The group was to read 50 pages a week over the course of the next few months and continually discuss through the end of the book. With the novel pushing 900 pages, this was an ideal chance for me to add in a book I’d been planning on reading without sacrificing the stack already sitting on my nightstand. Not only that, but I’d get to enjoy the “book club” aspect of reading. which I typically ignore. I had a plan of attack!

My plans were thwarted by Mr. Bolano and this novel however. I could not stop reading. So, after 2 weeks, the book sits alone on my designated reading chair – surely feeling utterly molested – and I sit here, on the opposite side of the room, trying to recover from what I was just put through.

The novel is broken down into 5 distinct sections entitled; The Part About the Critics, The Part About Amalfitano, The Part About Fate, The Part About the Crimes, and The Part About Archimbaldi. Evidently, aware of his oncoming death, Bolano asked that each section be released as an individual novel in order to (hopefully) provide better for his heirs. Fortunately, for fans of literature, his family chose to release the novel in its entirety. You can also get a really cool 3 volume edition.  Each of the sections is dominated by a different set of central characters, and each has it’s own independent feel of prose, and pacing. Throughout the novel however, the characters interact on the periphery of their own stories, as all travel through the Mexican border town of Ciudad de Juarez  fictionally realized as Santa Teresa. 

 It is these interactions that I found most intriguing about the story. For one reason, they begin to bring together the disparate threads of the plot into a central recognizable picture. Another reason is that the interactions aren’t necessarily actual conversations or even based on the physical limitations of time or space. This is where we get to The Part About Dreams.

In this novel engorged with central over-arching themes, the repetition of the “dream” as a literary feature is in my opinion, the most important and telling of Bolanos central idea of this novel.  Throughout the novel, the reader is invited to share in the sleeping dreams of just about every important character. The beauty and clarity with which Bolano puts the reader into these ethereal, often innately frightening situations is a joy to experience. The opportunity to see how the dreams of these characters applies to the larger story that the reader has been granted access to, works to give the novel the feel of a David Lynch film. Personally, I enjoy Lynch, but I understand his work can be divisive. The difference between Lynch and Bolano is that Lynch uses the dream as a plot device, while Bolano uses it as an insight into a deeper level of the story.  You’ll likely walk away from Mulholland Drive thinking… “what in the hell was that”, while trying to resist the urge to immediately watch it again. With 2666 however, each dream brings a greater appreciation for the story unfolding around you.

 

The dreams that the individual characters have, make connections to other elements of the story, some of which the reader will recognize and some of which won’t become clear until later (if ever). This includes several of the novels other themes, including; madness, death, isolation, artistic voyage etc. These dreams create a sense of over-arching unease throughout the book.  Within the actual prose of the novel as well as in the characters’ dreams, separate individuals share similar plotlines. Random allusions and metaphors to other characters and their current/past circumstances are made. Foreshadowing is heavily used. There are many small snapshots, taken in vivid detail, but pieced together in a confusing, unclear setting. It feels as if the reader is dreaming the text. These dream components fuse into the characters psyche in such a way that reality is looked upon warily as coincidences begin to emerge.

The characters experience their world in the same way you, as the reader experience the novel. You feel like you recognize this person passing you on the street, your expectations are affected by an undercurrent of dread, there is a hint that the answer is always just out of focus in your periphery. You are a character in this novel, and like the multitude of others around you, not all your questions will be answered. You decide how hard to scratch that itch of coincidence that continues to nag you, as you piece together the puzzle that you have created which mirrors own individual sense of acceptance

Sonoran Desert – Courtesty of Steven Bedrick  

I love this open approach to writing. In no way can it be called lazy or scatterbrained. I believe your perception of its complexity is directly proportional to the work you put into inhabiting Bolanos’ world. You won’t tire of digging for meaning, or reaching for connections.  The depth is incredible, and the character of artist Edwin Johns conveys in a few words, what I have taken far to many too try and convey:

“Coincidence, if you’ll permit me the simile, is like the manifestation of God at every moment on our planet. A senseless God making senseless gestures at his senseless creatures. In that hurricane, in that osseous explosion, we find communion.” - p.90