Time Shelter<\/em><\/a>.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
The plot of the book begins with a project that tries to alleviate people suffering from Alzheimer’s or dementia: a house where each room is set (down to the smallest detail) in another decade. But over time, the need to live in the past, the nostalgia for other times, leads healthy people to take refuge in those spaces for longer and longer. Until we reach a moment when all countries will relive a historical era chosen in a referendum. A collective madness? Fear of the uncertain future? A wish to go back to the “traditional”? Is it something visionary or dangerous? This is a deliciously complex fragmented novel, where melancholy is mixed with meta-literary, political and philosophical themes. To savor each phrase.<\/p>\n
I believe it to be difficult to write something that is both fun and scary, ambitious and nostalgic, something that so faithfully reflects the atmosphere of the countries on the other side of the Iron Curtain. I don’t think it’s an easy read, but it’s certainly worth delving into this story, so original and so timely in many aspects.<\/p>\n
On December, 11th<\/strong> at Donostia Book Club<\/strong> we will analyze the motifs that appear in the novel and try to unravel the most complex parts of it. In case you would like to do the same, join us and\/or think about these questions (suggested on The Booker Prize website):<\/p>\nThe book\u2019s central character, Gaustine, who comes up with the idea of the clinics of the past, is a mysterious, enigmatic and charismatic figure, and the narrator often struggles to understand him. \u2018I was never sure when he was joking or whether he joked around at all<\/em>.\u2019 (page 44). To begin with, he seems to be a visionary, providing a radical and successful form of therapy. Later in the book, the narrator calls him a \u2018monster\u2019. Did you find Gaustine a likeable character or a dangerous and malevolent figure, or both?<\/p>\nWhen interviewed for the Booker Prizes website, Georgi Gospodinov said his career had been inspired by \u2018[my] grandmother\u2019s stories that I listened to as a child. Stories that blended fiction and reality, with no clear end to one and beginning to another. Stories that had voices and whispers, and miracles at the end.<\/em>\u2019 Can you see these influences in Time Shelter<\/em>?<\/span><\/p>\nAt several points in the book, the narrator, who is an author, mentions that he invented or dreamt up Gaustine. He calls Gaustine his \u2018invisible friend, more real and visible than my very self<\/em>\u2019. Both narrator and Gaustine share the initials G.G. and are Bulgarian (like Georgi Gospodinov). To what extent are the two main characters and the book\u2019s author all the same person? Did you find the book\u2019s metafictive elements successful?<\/span><\/p>\nThe novel can be read as an increasingly outlandish satire about modern society\u2019s idealisation of the past and the dangers of such an outlook when on a mass scale. It\u2019s a timely read, one which the Guardian said addresses the \u2018weaponisation of nostalgia<\/em>\u2019. Would you agree that we live in an age where nostalgia has been weaponised?<\/span><\/p>\nThe panel of International Booker Prize judges called the book \u2018morbidly humorous<\/em>\u2019. How does the author\u2019s use of humour and irony contribute to the book as a whole?<\/span><\/p>\nAt one point during the story, Gaustine retreats to the year 1939, which is referenced at the beginning of the book as \u2018the end of human time<\/em>\u2019. The ending of the book also leans into this moment. Why does Gospodinov keep circling back to this date? <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Liveright, 2022 304 p. ISBN 978-1-324-09095-3 Post hau ingelesez dago. This year the winner of the International Booker Prize has been the Bulgarian author, Georgi Gospodinov with his wonderful novel Time Shelter.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":21525,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[50],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-21524","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-eleberria"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogak.donostiakultura.eus\/liburu-dantza\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21524","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogak.donostiakultura.eus\/liburu-dantza\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogak.donostiakultura.eus\/liburu-dantza\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogak.donostiakultura.eus\/liburu-dantza\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogak.donostiakultura.eus\/liburu-dantza\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21524"}],"version-history":[{"count":17,"href":"https:\/\/blogak.donostiakultura.eus\/liburu-dantza\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21524\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23045,"href":"https:\/\/blogak.donostiakultura.eus\/liburu-dantza\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21524\/revisions\/23045"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogak.donostiakultura.eus\/liburu-dantza\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/21525"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogak.donostiakultura.eus\/liburu-dantza\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21524"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogak.donostiakultura.eus\/liburu-dantza\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21524"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogak.donostiakultura.eus\/liburu-dantza\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21524"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}