CHILEAN POET

A unique and personal novel about what it means to be part of a family.

Who is the Chilean poet of the title? Is it Gonzalo, the main character of the first section, who meets a girl named Carla when they’re both teenagers and then reconnects with her in their 20s? Gonzalo yearns to see his name alongside Chilean greats like Neruda and Mistral; he’d even settle to see his name among the not-so-greats or even any poets at all. Or is the Chilean poet Vicente, Carla’s son, whom Gonzalo helps raise until leaving them both to take a position in New York City? Vicente takes over the second section of the novel, when he himself is 18 and, unlike Gonzalo, is actually a talented poet. Or is Zambra the titular poet in a piece of autofiction about his own literary yearnings and relationships in a Chile still recovering from a brutal dictatorship? Can anyone bear the burden of being a Chilean poet considering that two have won the Nobel Prize in literature? Zambra’s novel, as translated by McDowell, renders both the small moments of literary striving and the everyday difficulties of being part of, and raising, a family with an insight that’s both cleareyed and tender. Many of the author's musings about families could be applied to the act of writing and vice versa: “They were like two strangers searching desperately for a subject in common; it seemed like they were talking about something and were together, but they knew that really they were talking about nothing and were alone.” The relationships in the novel are touching, often frustrating, and always authentic. Zambra isn’t afraid to switch from graphic sex scenes to hilarious ruminations on poetry anthologies or into multiple characters’ points of view, all in a few pages.

A playful, discursive novel about families, relationships, poetry, and how easily all three can come together or fall apart.