too perfect, too professional, yet at the same time very well done impressive

perhaps I'm only jealous

perhaps, in the end, it answers more questions than it raises

To be quite honest, ‘Traveller of the Century’ is too long. Whilst I could appreciate the lyrical prose and lovely imagery, at times all I could think was, “Are you ever going to stop arguing about poetry?” As a great deal of the book takes place in a literary salon, such debates are frequent and lengthy. Moreover, there are no speech marks, nor any line breaks for a new interlocutor. So the reader must concentrate to identify who is speaking at any given time. I don’t especially object to the lack of speech marks, which other authors carry off well. (Notably [a:José Saramago|1285555|José Saramago|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1465235805p2/1285555.jpg] who, probably not coincidentally, has the same translator as Neuman here.) The dense paragraphs in which three or more people’s dialogue runs together were harder to digest. Whilst removal of speech marks can create a greater sense of immersion, absent line breaks seem to do the opposite. In actual conversation, comments from different speakers may sometimes overlap, but the change in voice allows them to be distinguished. More of a conscious effort is required when the reader is presented with a dense paragraph of speech, taking you out of the flow state in which I like to experience books.

In short, I am a little disappointed in what seemed like such a promising novel. It concerns a man called Hans who turns up in the city of Wandernburg, which appears to occupy an ambiguous political and geographical position. He makes friends with an organ grinder and a Spanish man of business and starts a flirtation with an intellectually stifled woman. This flirtation would at times seem interminable, if Sophie were not such an interesting and vibrant character. I was so pleased that she wasn’t reduced to an object of desire, but had her own thoughts and motivations. The relationships that Hans forms, romantic and otherwise, are in fact the most powerful and appealing element of the book. Their evolution is sometimes masked (or perhaps allegorised and it went over my head?) by all the poetic and philosophical debate. I enjoyed the thoughtful discussion of translation and its links with love, but groaned when once again Kant’s views on nationhood were brought up. I also objected to the sub-plot about the serial rapist, which was extremely creepy and seemed gratuitous. Perhaps it was meant to signify something important about Society; I did not think it justified itself.

All this whining serves to show I had high hopes for the novel and they were not met. Neuman is evidently a gifted writer, though, and I’ll keep an eye open for more of his work. I did keep reading for 578 pages despite my reservations, for the sake of paragraphs like this:

Hans hated dance halls, but at the same time they fascinated him, precisely because he never went to them. The crowd was a floating perfume, a shifting blot. In the light from the gas lamps, the ladies’ arms and shoulders seemed separate from their dresses. The rows of dancers twirled and untwirled like threads round a bobbin. Dresses and jackets touched, brushed against one another, merged. Heads glided, hats passed one another like birds, fans fluttered of their own accord.

There is also a certain perverse satisfaction in reading a novel that dwells on the act of translation at such length in its English translation. ( )

I've forgotten where I heard about this book and the specifics regarding its recommendation. Even so, I found it to be disappointing: a romance novel with philosophic touches rather than a philosophical novel containing a romance. ( )

A thoroughly enjoyable feast that is also intellectually engaging... A brilliant read... ( )

Imagine a bucolic village, one of relative isolation and which strangely defies the laws of location and time. Insert an urbane protagonist. Should we allow a masked nemesis? No, I am not referring to Hot Fuzz http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0425112/?ref_=sr_2, fine film it is but rather than that the novel Traveler of the Century by Andres Neuman. This is the first of Neuman's works to be translated and it appears to offer the hubris on an early effort. There are two or three amazing aspects on display. Unfortunately, each situation is routinely abandoned after a few sequences and likely doesn't return for a few hundred pages.

Obviously Traveler is a nod to Kafka and the discussions within [b:The Magic Mountain|88077|The Magic Mountain|Thomas Mann|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1347799215s/88077.jpg|647489] but it simply drags as it seeks definition. Definition is a nominal point as the prtagonists tryst under the enterprise of translation. It is too long by half and even disappointing there. The philosophy of the novel's first half gives way to the sex of the second. The reader does marvel at the deft debates, is centralization at odds with republicanism. Was an occupied Germany (by Napoleon) more at ease with personal liberty than Metternich's Holy Alliance? Well, of course. The chief characters are richly drawn and conflicted. The situation is nothing novel. That said my interest remained only with the barrel organist and his dog.
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