When I started this blog I created a list of books from countries around the world – 101 – and called it my armchair travel log. I have not been diligent with updating this list, or even considering it. Then the world “woke”. You need to walk in someone else’s shoes before we judge them. The best way I know how to do that is to read about life from someone else’s point of view. I recommitted to the task. The first thing I realized is I missed some countries – Austria, New Zealand, Lebanon and Swaziland. I am afraid I missed many more.
My kickstart landed me in Argentina, chasing The Tango Singer. Tomás Eloy Martínez creates a cast of characters that includes the city of Buenos Aires. The main character, Bruno Cadogan, is an American – New Yorker – writing his thesis on Jorge Francisco Isidoro Luis Borges, a famous Latin short story writer. Borges’s 1940’s publication The Aleph is a collection of his stories with common themes. [Borges style was to influence the magic realism movement in 20th century Latin American literature. It is assumed that you are familiar with him and his work but it is not necessary to enjoy this book.]
Bruno is encouraged to experience Argentina, where Borges lived and created, but the New Yorker was reluctant to leave, preferring the safety of the United States. The implication here is that those in the U.S. like to know more than anyone else, but never leave and experience that which they are to know so well. This also implies that you must travel in another’s steps to truly learn about life.
After being awarded a scholarship, he is persuaded to go and find a new angle to write something new for his thesis – a story he hears about an unsung tango singer. Thus begins Bruno’s quest to find this illusive singer that was rumored to be better than Carlos Gardel [the internationally acclaimed singer, songwriter, and most prominent figure in the history of tango – so says wiki-pedia].
Upon arrival in Buenos Aires, Bruno is taken in hand by someone that sets him on his magical journey. By coincidence this person takes him to stay at the actual hotel where The Aleph was said to be written. From this place he meets a man that lives in the basement where Bruno believes the Aleph actually exists, as well as other characters. In his friend’s [I returned the book to the library and forgot this character’s name] desire to get into the basement, Bruno contacts the owner of the building to see what can be done.
After that, we are following the steps of Julio Martel, an ailing and aging man. He never announces where he will sing, instead just appearing from nowhere where Bruno arrives too late to hear him. Bruno attempts to find the reason why these sites were chosen. The stories of how Julio became a singer, and of the places and people related to each, are peels of an onion. Layered and nuanced, with bits being given out of order and disjointed. By examining the pattern of Julio’s impromptu concerts, the dark history of the country is laid bare, with years of abuses of power being highlighted. As Argentina again spirals into chaos of changing regimes, soring inflation and increasing desperation, you see Bruno’s desperation to see Julio, who has since ended in the hospital critically ill, just as the country is.
It is in this chaos that the owner of the building where the Aleph was to be found evicts everyone. This parallels the chaos within the country. Regardless of the past, the present is to be re-written regardless of the cost to human lives. It also reflects the impact of outside countries, such as the United States, on the country of Argentina.
Bruno never does hear Julio sing, and he leaves Argentina to return to New York, forever changed by the stories that Julio made sure were not lost to history. To hear the stories is to carry the burden of what happened. This shared burden is what provides the empathy to remember the sacrifices of others and to have respect for those that survived.