Benjamins bok (Bo Carpelan, 1997)

A novel of aging. Thoughts about the life course…

I was made aware of this uncompomising book when I read Peter Luthersson’s Förlorare from 2014. In the opening chapter Luthersson relates how gutted he had been by reading Carpelan’s book, and how it had made him think about aging and the shift of worldviews that constantly occurs in the flood of time. Luthersson’s book is about one such worldview that in his opinion has been lost to the tides, namely ”the ethos of the 1800s”. He expands his argument over the course of 470+ pages with close readings of several 19th century writers, like Kipling, Conrad, Melville and others. 

But Carpelan’s book is not about the 19th century. It is firmly set in the 20th century, as the protagonist is an aged man at the end of his working life, reflecting on what became of him – and what became of his own zeitgeist. The stuff of the novel must be of autobiographical origin, as the author shares several of the important characteristics with the protagonist. 

It is written almost in diary form, with short numbered chapters containing a fleeting idea or other. The narration also mentions that this is a thought-diary, even though it is interspersed with more traditional prose storytelling too. 

Benjamin Trogen (Trogen means faithful), is a newly retired translator living in Helsinki, or Helsingfors rather, as he is Finland-Swedish (a Swedish-speaking minority of Finland). He has spent his life transferring the thoughts of others into Swedish and feels now that he wants to record some of his own thoughts instead. Some of the thoughts are the kind of throwaway thoughts that might have ended up in the paper basket. Some are philosophical in nature, jumping off of Descartes or others. Some are plain old curmudgeonly complaining about the decline of manners and such. He even has a name for it, “SUra GUbbars KLUbb” written with a few upper case letters for some reason (meaning “grumpy old men’s club”).

An overarching story is that of his childhood friend Olli who became mentally retarded after falling into the water and hitting his head, an accident that Benjamin believes he is responsible for, and has blamed himself for his whole life. Benjamin is visited by Olli in his dreams and decides to make a trip to visit him in real life.

This book has not been translated into English, as far as I know, but some other of Carpelan’s output has been subjected to English publication. A certain David MacDuff translated a few of them in the 1990s, one of them being Urwind. Horace Engdahl, a leading Swedish authority on literary matters, and former leader of the Swedish Academy called Carpelan “an architect of dreams” when he was awarded the “De Nios Stora Pris” 1995. He also received the Nordiska rådets litteraturpris in 1977.

Carpelan (1926-2011) was a translator of Finnish to Swedish and some of the prose reflects that bilinguality, which intrigues me as a linguistically inclined person. Also of note is that he started out as a poet, and continued writing poetry throughout his life. Poets writing novels usually makes for a certain type of prose, more mystical in tone, which definitely applies to Benjamins bok.

The Tartar Steppe (Dino Buzzati, 1940)

This is my contribution to the 1940 club, graciously hosted by Simon and Karen at Stuck in a Book and Bookish Ramblings, respectively. This is my sixth or seventh time participating, and it is good fun seeing what other books people have read and reviewed. Go to their pages and have a look!

Life consists of waiting. Waiting in vain, perhaps, as Robert Marley wrote. Italian writer Dino Buzzati noticed this and it inspired him to write this novel, his most well-known work, published in 1940.

Buzzati got the idea for the novel when he saw friends, colleagues, acquaintances just waiting for things to happen. Sometimes these unnamed “things” did happen, most times they didn’t. This, it seemed to Buzzati, was a fact of life. A fact he wanted to describe in a work of fiction. It also indirectly comments on the balance between settling and ambition in life. He seems to comment on life expectations. Are we being conditioned to expect too much out of life? Is the freedom that comes with modernity ultimately empty? Is that what existentialism was about? Buzzati, and this novel in particular, is sometimes mentioned as an example of existentialism. But what is it about?

Giovanni Drogo is a young soldier, on his way to be stationed at a remote fortress, at the edges of an unnamed Empire. This fort, Bastiani, is supposed to be a waystation where he just will stay for a few months, before an awaited transfer to the city. But somehow, as a simile for life changes unrealised, Drogo stays for longer than the four months. He ends up staying for 30 years, spending the better part of his adult life in the fort, waiting.

The book is a meditation on life and meaning, on wasting time and considering opportunities. On routine and the ultimate purpose of our lives. It is a reminder that we often make choices as if we will live forever. It can be seen as a wake up call to take advantage of our short time of earth. If that’s not existential, I don’t know what is.

This book was recommended by Nicholas Nassim Taleb, and he said it was his favorite book for a long time. It’s one of those books that I think one must get to at a young age to really be taken by. For me, on this theme, it was probably Camus that took up that space. Another French book with a similar theme, published in 1951, is Julien Gracq‘s The Opposing Shore. It is also about warring states, even though no battle has taken place for over 300 years. The notion of the “barbarians at the gates” is an evergreen theme, but Buzzati is said to have been inspired by Constantin Cavafy‘s 1904 poem Waiting for the Barbarians. That title also resurfaced in J.M. Coetzee‘s 1981 novel, reportedly inspired by Buzzati.

The waiting aspect of this book has been compared to Vladimir and Estragon’s anticipatory loafing in Beckett‘s classic. And for some reason it is also said to be similar to Kafka, which I don’t agree with. One reviewer saw similarities with John William‘s Stoner, because both are books in which nothing happens (which was also said about TV show Seinfeld, incidentally).

Buzzati seems to say that life is waiting, but life is also a train journey (Radu Mihaileanu). Life is a sea voyage (Joseph Conrad), life is hugging the shore (John Updike), and life is a lane switch (Kendrick Lamar). Life might be an overtake on the motorway (Rodolfo Sonego).