The carpenter's pencil /

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Bibliographic Details
Author / Creator:Rivas, Manuel, 1957-
Uniform title:Lapis do carpinteiro. English
Edition:1st ed.
Imprint:Woodstock, NY : Overlook Press, 2001.
Description:165 p. ; 21 cm.
Language:English
Subject:
Format: Print Book
URL for this record:http://pi.lib.uchicago.edu/1001/cat/bib/6282907
Hidden Bibliographic Details
ISBN:1585671452
9781585671458
1860467431
9781860467431
Review by Booklist Review

Rivas is one of the most popular and talented contemporary Spanish writers, but his work is just starting to be appreciated in the U.S. In this novel, Rivas returns to the dark days of the Spanish civil war and the shared fate of two uncommon people: Dr. Daniel Da Barca, a doctor on the side of the Republic, and Herbal, an illiterate fascist who becomes Da Barca's nemesis and shadow during his long stay in prison. Herbal took the carpenter's pencil from a nameless artist he was ordered to execute, and it serves as a bridge between him and the prisoners' literate, rarefied world. It is simultaneously a practical and artistic instrument, an apt symbol of all that was bound together in the peculiar struggle of the Spanish civil war. Rivas introduces us to an additional inauspicious cast of characters: Pepe Sanchez, the bolero singer; "Genghis Khan," a wrestler; Dombodan, an innocent youth; and Marisa Mallo, loved by both Da Barca and Herbal. A very poignant story of ordinary lives bound together by extraordinary events. --Ted Leventhal

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Dr. Daniel Da Barca is a Republican hero of the Spanish Civil War, an almost folkloric figure at the center of this lyrical though frequently impenetrable import. His story is related, in the spirit of Cervantes's Exemplary Tales, in a bar, by a Galician brothel keeper to a favorite whore. Da Barca's politics and philosophy stem from what his teacher, Dr. N?voa Santos, calls "the theory of intelligent reality" that irony and lyricism are organic parts of the human condition. Even before Franco's uprising, Da Barca's movements were tracked by a soldier named Herbal a man who conceals his moral susceptibility beneath a shell of brutality. In the first days of the war, Da Barca, along with other Republican notables, is imprisoned in Santiago. One of his fellow prisoners is a painter who is taken out and killed by a group including Herbal. On the way back, Herbal, who has picked up the carpenter's pencil that the painter had been using in prison, hears a voice in his head it is the voice of the deceased, who makes Herbal into the unwilling vessel of Da Barca's salvation. Twice Da Barca is taken out to be shot, and twice he is saved by Herbal, who later arranges for the doctor's transfer from the harsh prison at Coru?a to the less rigorous camp at Porta Coeli, from which he manages to direct a Republican resistance group. Although Rivas's (Butterfly's Tongue) highly charged language is sometimes excessive and the narrative convoluted, his instinctive balancing of Da Barca's heroism against Herbal's brutish plebian consciousness creates a work of endearing nobility that will reward the patience of what is likely to be a very small American audience. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review

Set in Galicia during the Spanish Civil War, this novel tells the story of Dr. Daniel Da Barca, who twice miraculously escapes death in front of the firing squad only to be given life imprisonment, a sentence that is later commuted. The principal narrator, though, is Herbal, the guard who escorts Da Barca during his various incarcerations. The third major character is Marisa Mallo, whose marriage by proxy to the doctor is ultimately consummated with Herbal's assistance. Ironically, the ubiquitous role of the painter ("He's the one who paints the ideas") is mostly symbolic. Rivas leaps across time zones and switches narrative voice. Yet with minimal description he masterfully sketches, for example, the hopeless atmosphere of the dank prison with a few brushstrokes, as if he held the titular pencil. And for a novel set during wartime to convince us of the doom and despair of conflict without a single battle scene is admirable indeed. This British-slanted translation marks the first American appearance of this up-and-coming Spanish author. Recommended. Lawrence Olszewski, OCLC Lib., Dublin, OH (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

This internationally acclaimed 1998 novel—the first of its Galician author’s to appear in English—is an elegantly composed mosaic portrayal of the human cost of the Spanish Civil War. The story begins many years afterward with a journalist’s visit to interview Dr. Daniel Da Barca, a “revolutionary grandfather” hero of the Republican resistance to (fascist) Falangist tyranny, who has returned to Spain after a long exile in Mexico following his escape from prison. The journalist’s story is joined by other voices remembering—the primary one being that of Falangist stooge and former prison guard Herbal (who’s sharing his memories with a sympathetic prostitute at the whorehouse where he’s now employed as a handyman). Herbal is tormented by accusatory images from his past: specifically, his reluctant murder (under orders) of a (nameless) painter whose drawings had boldly exalted the figures of his fellow prisoners; more generally, the stoical Da Barca’s love for beautiful Marisa Mallo, the granddaughter of a Falangist collaborator—a relationship that endures as a rebuke to the captors who tried to break Da Barca’s spirit. Furthermore, the aforementioned painter’s “carpenter’s pencil,” which Herbal has appropriated, evokes the spirit of the painter, which now “visits” and speaks with the chastened Herbal. Rivas creates a dramatic and fascinating nexus in which these and other vividly realized characters (notably Mother Inane, a fervent nun who angrily debates religion with the freethinking Da Barca) are shown in an increasingly complex interrelationship, also captured in a series of stunningly evocative “pictures” (the dark shape of a wolf against a background of snow, a train full of tubercular prisoners, an “orchestra” of musicians who have no instruments). The result is a deeply moving depiction of heroism and survival, this despite an uneven translation whose frequent awkward phrasing (e.g., “in the jovial manner some of them had been doing”) suggests an overly literal blurring of the differences between Galician and English idiom. Exciting and accomplished fiction. One looks forward to further translation of Rivas’s work.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Review by Booklist Review


Review by Publisher's Weekly Review


Review by Library Journal Review


Review by Kirkus Book Review