Today I finished reading a book called "Barroco Tropical" (it isn't translated in English yet, but my guess would be it would be called "Tropical Baroque") by Angolan writer and journalist José Eduardo Agualusa. I thought for some time if I should write something about it because I didn't have any idea what to write. I'm no literature expert so I can't say much about the style, the sentences, or the importance of the book for the Angolan or African literature, or literature in general. And the plot is so convoluted and phantasmagoric it's hard to write anything about it that makes sense. But as you can see, I decided to try.
The main character in the book is writer, journalist and documentary filmmaker by the name of Bartolomeu Falcato. He's sort of author's alter-ego and narrates most of the book. The other narrator in the book is his mistress and famous singer Kianda. There are also Bartolomeu's wife Barbara Dulce, her father the general, lots of dirty politicians, war veterans, lowlifes of all sorts, dwarf twins who are famous fashion designers, a crazy psychiatrist, magicians, a black angel, a young artist who draws the future, Termiteira - the building in which Bartolomeu and few other characters live and where some important scenes take place, São Paulo da Assunção de Loanda or shorter - Luanda, the capital of Angola, the city where it all happens, or most of it, and many, many more. There are love, sex, murders, language discussions, history, politics, wars, present, magic, kidnapping, prostitution, architecture, music, future, bars, a labyrinth for the insane, old letters, new ones, legends, lies, and, sometimes, even the truth.
It seems mad, I know. And it is. Trying to explain it would be too hard and I probably wouldn't even succeed. What you should know is that all of those characters and things are equally important in the book and make a very interesting and atmospheric whole. It's a world that seems too crazy to exist yet we know is there. And here. It's the world we created.
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