I would say that the stories gathered in ‘Hombre caído’ are like nothing or almost nothing Fernando Aramburu has written so far.
This collection of stories is born of an intention or a creative state that is light years away from the humorous and wild fanfare of ‘Fuegos con limón,’ and even further from the emotional restraint and latent tension of ‘Los peces de la amargura’ (which was an exceptional collection of stories), and certainly has nothing to do either with the self-absorbed gaze of ‘Años lentos,’ so heartfelt and secret, or with the long and meticulous view that recreates the commercial bombshell that was ‘Patria,’ to narrate the debasement of a society that lived for decades under the extortion of threats and outright murder.
Here he is another Aramburu, or at least I feel that way: rarely circumspect, vaguely ceremonial in his use of prose and narrative voices, as if he were rehearsing a formula for narrative distancing that would make the absurdity of human existence a little starker.
By Jordi Gracia (El País – Babelia)
