chonchon

I wanted Jose Donoso’s Obscene Bird of Night to be magical realism, not magical surrealism as a friend suggested, or stream of altered consciousness as I suggested, or peyote prose, which neither of us thought to suggest, but might explain everything. I wanted a Chilean version of Haruki Murakami or Mikhail Bulgakov, but that’s not what I got. Not at all. Sad […]