Tomás González's novel The Storm
set off at early 4:00 am when the twin sons Mario and Javier and their father
('the old bastard', as called by his sons) start making preparation for their
journey far off into the sea for catching fish for their tourists. From the
very beginning we feel the resentment the sons, especially Mario holds for his
father. They have a 'nut case' mother Nora, probably a schizophrenic, who talks
to her imaginary followers, and mostly stays all day indoors, driven to
conclusions, sensing a scheme of her murder or else making incoherent comments
about her sons or her husband, whom she has grown to resent.
Novel progresses, treating each
passing hour like a chapter, and unfurls the psychological relation between the
father and sons, meanwhile making them lively with intense descriptions largely
about their inner world. While at the sea, we could feel how each of them consider
themselves superior to the other, and the narrative voices—which are experimental, shifting, inclusive—perfectly
tailored to characterize them doesn't let the tension wane. We sense the storm
gathering strength and momentum at the far sky and the tension dramatized in
the boat, or developing in their fishing line will at some time all conflate to
extreme limits and story engrosses us completely what happens in this account.
Where a captain rules, a sailor has no sway, she thought.
Hopefully the
twin would stab the
sailor’s captain. And hopefully not. He could
also drown him – they
say it’s a sweet death. A sweet death
in saltwater, what do
you say to that.
The author has spared no
character to go away without saying something, and which serves as portrayals
done by others of the father, the twins and their delusional mother. Kids
speak, adult tourists speak, neighbors speak, even Nora's 'throng' speak, and
we gather all these elements to create the atmosphere surrounding the life of
the family. The father considers his sons losers, and himself a king. And,
Mario wants him dead for good, or to get rid of his taunting remarks forever
any way. The translation is almost poetic, and mostly thoughts of the
characters have spoken for themselves. What we find is a finely braided
storytelling, where not a sentence can be overlooked—nothing overly done, hanging resentment
keeping things apart and together at a time.
Despite Nora’s madness and his
complicated relationship with his sons, the
father thinks, when looked at the right way,
and especially given the prosperity the
hotel has brought them, things have turned out
pretty well.
Everybody’s got problems.
He knows that no individual, not even him, understands
everything
about the world, and
so he recognizes that human beings
will be forever doomed to humility
Despite the growing loathing and
want to inflict pain, something holds the family together, and whatever we see
happening, there is a glow that everything will in fact come back to normal, or
it has always been like this, even before the story started. Their personal
moods and vanity, their delusion and bare truths, their reclusive sense of life
has given each of the characters their height in the story.
So that we're not confused with
the voices, characters introduce themselves, and the accounts are funny, sad in
the part of Nora, and all shed light to the Bungalow holder family, and also
the coastal life. We're reminded of The Old Man and the Sea, and Moby Dick, but
here the force that drives the story is human flaws and complex. And like a
magician, González has turned an ordinary family chemistry to something
extraordinary. We are driven to understand the sons and the father, weigh their
values, realize their personal truth and observation, judge their little
actions, and hear their thoughts. The Storm approaching them soon adds up and
down emotional graph to their fishing expedition, and to their lives, and we
are astonished how everything concludes.
Author: Tomás González
Translator: Andrea Rosenberg
Publisher: Archipelago
Page Count: 120
Price: $11 (Paperback)
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