The Savage Detectives: A Novel

I, like many of the other readers that have reviewed Roberto Bolano's The Savage Detectives here, was utterly blown away by this book. It was my second experience with Bolano, behind 2666, and I feel that I am now hooked for life. But I won't go into my rave of the book here so much, since there are already plenty of good reviews out there.

Instead, many people might have come across all the buzz concerning Bolano and are wondering whether or not his work will fit them well. My first response would, of course, be that everyone should read Bolano, and that no one should be discouraged from doing so. But I also know that my family and a lot of my friends, who are largely if not entirely uninterested in literature, wouldn't make it through the first page. And then there are lots of people in between.

The first thing that you should know about The Savage Detectives is that it is told in three parts, with the first and third part sharing a narrator. The middle section, by far the largest, is a series of "interviews" with secondary and tertiary characters considering the whereabouts and goings on of the primary characters, resulting in a final narrator count of over 50. Although this might sound extremely off-putting, I would contest that it actually reveals far more about the characters than traditional narrative formulations do, since you are exposed to every angle of their being, as well as a multitude of interpretations of their appearances and their actions. This is, in most avid readers' minds, one of the strongest aspects of the book. If you are not into experimental modes of storytelling, however, it can be difficult to synthesize.

That being said, I think any reader will find that he acclimates himself to that style very quickly, so don't give up! My experience with the Savage Detectives, 2666, and By Night in Chile has been the same in that I feel sort of lost or detached for the first 1/3 of the book, but slowly, as I work through it more, the text begins to evoke emotions that ebb and flow the way the pain does in a deep muscle ache; they are at once overwhelming and entirely absent. I would compare reading Bolano to looking at a painting by Salvador Dali or watching a film by David Lynch. There are ends that don't add up, and there are things that are noticeably out of place, and no matter how much you sense you can make of something, it is still difficult to come to terms with the feeling of sheer dread that the work is able to inspire. Bolano's books are not about symbolic interpretation so much as they are instances of utter reckoning.

Because of all that, I have said to my friends that it is much harder to read 5 pages of a Bolano than it is to read 50 or 100 at a time. A mere 5 pages can leave you confused and complaining that nothing has happened, whereas by the end of 50 will leave you fascinated and mortified, begging instead what it was that happened. And I don't mean that in a narrative sense, as the plot details are usually relatively easy to discern (they are not always immediately straightforward, but rarely are they truly obscured). I mean that you will wonder how it is that the events of those 50 pgs, seemingly only tangentially related and of no immediate consequence, can inspire the feeling that something is horribly wrong.

Make no mistake, though, this is not a horror book, it is simply a meditation on the human condition. And for those worried about the oft-mentioned literary references, you can abstain from dealing with them if you so choose. They are fun to look up, and many of them don't exist, but you will not lose appreciation for the text by foregoing them.

In the end I would recommend this book to anyone, with the advice that you must stick with it and you will be deeply, deeply rewarded. If, however, you know for a fact that you do not appreciate Latin-American styles of fiction, or anything that plays with narrative devices, or anything whose symbology and meaning are not immediately straightforward, then this book may be a pass. I would still, however, encourage you to try it, because if anyone can make you a believer, it's Bolano.

Don't waste your time with The Savage Detectives. You won't like it; more than likely you'll probably be bored, if not confused or distracted by the writing. There's not much action or plot to discuss at your Book Club. Instead I recommend you go buy John Grisham'a, or maybe Dan Drown's, latest masterpiece.

On the other hand, if you're the type of person that actually cares that art and beauty can be found in the written word, then you may (may) be interested in this book. You may enjoy this book if you're the type that believes reading can be an emotional investment that is rewarding. Roberto Bolano delivers on both counts. Oh boy does he ever.

I won't waste your time telling you about the book or Bolano. There's a wiki entry for that.

I'm just here to give my 5 cents worth--The Savage Detectives is one of the best novels I've ever read. Much better than anything by DeLillo, David Foster Wallace, or any other modern author. You know the type I'm talking about--the kind that get caught up in being in playing the role of author. If you've gotten this far, then please dive into the book, take a few bites, take your time and chew properly to enjoy the multi-faceted flavors you'll encounter. You won't be disappointed.

I first discovered The Savage Detectives almost by accident. I was probably killing time
before work in a bookstore in downtown Berkeley and its cover was striking, not to
mention the title! After glancing at it several times and flipping through its pages
over the course of a few months I finally decided to buy it. It is rare that I buy a book
I've never heard of, simply out of curiosity. Usually I choose books based on friends'
recommendations or because the author is someone I've heard a lot about and have
been meaning to read.
I had never heard of Roberto Bolano before I bought "The Savage Detectives" about
six or seven months ago. Which, now, I find odd, because there is no doubt in my
mind that he belongs in the upper echelons of writing with all of those writers that
have simultaneously educated and entertained me along the way.
One striking feature of "The Savage Detectives", and the most obvious I suppose,
is that, despite its length of 649 pages, it is cleverly broken down into short diary
entries, from a paragraph to six pages in length, making it easier and more enjoyable
to read. This also exposes one of Bolano's greatest talents, that of perspective.
The novel is told from the point-of-view of at least twenty or thirty characters,
including its two quixotic main characters, Ulises Lima and Arturo Belano, Bolano's
alter-ego. The "voices" of his characters, from the paranoid Heimito Kunst, whom
Ulises meets in prison and who worries there are Jews underground building
atomic bombs to the young, naive intellectual Juan Garcia Madero who wants to
join the Viscerrealists, a new poetry movement begun by Lima and Belano,
to the dancer/prostitute Lupe who is friends with the poet, Maria Font, and
loves to brag about the length of her boyfriend/pimp's member which he often
measures with a knife, are flawless. Bolano pulled out the sculptor's carving tools
when he created his characters.
The novel is full of adventure and travel, migrant workers sleeping in caves by
the sea, a sword fight, death, imprisonment, and more travel with poetry
weaving its way through each page to its grand finale in the north of Mexico.
An unforgettable, cinematic ending. I would recommend "The Savage Detectives"
to just about anybody who enjoys reading.

But I really could not finish this either. I just wasn't interested enough in the story or the characters to stay with a book of this length. It's like a Mexican beat road trip in the middle -- which is only interesting if you're into that milieu, the poets, the times, the people he's basing it on. It's not accessible to me, and though amusing, without the cultural relevance, and no compelling story line, it just doesn't keep you interested enough for the investment in time. Good points: good writing about sex, at least in the first 150 pages. Good writing is rare enough. Good writing about sex is awfully scarce, and usually, I can't stand male authors' attempts. This manages to be charming. Figures - he's not American.

While critics swoon over this novel, I'm not quite so sure. At 648 pages, it takes a big commitment to negotiate, although the prose is quite breezy. At the heart of the reader's struggle is this question: What meaning can the reader find in this story? It is here that I find Roberto Bolano lacking. The lives of the many characters portrayed in "The Savage Detectives" do not form a cohesive picture of a compelling narrative. While I found the characters interesting, and it is my interest in their lives that kept me reading, nothing is resolved and nothing is clarified. Maybe that's the point---the pointlessness of life itself. As atmospherics, this is a very good book as it details the lives of South American would-be poets, bohemians, in Mexico, South America and Europe during the period 1976 to 1996. The structure of the book is, initially, a diary of a young poet, and then the first-person stories of the many people who came in contact with them. As literature, I can appreciate how good Bolano's creative imagination is and how artful is his prose. But, admiration does not necessarily create enjoyment. I have a sense of accomplishment that I got through the book, but at the end, I felt "at last" rather than "so soon."

Bolaño is undoubtedly a very important writer, and the reasons for this are expressed in the book's introduction by the translator of The Savage Detectives, Natasha Wimmer. The Savage Detectives is also one of the most critically acclaimed novels to come around in a long time.

Maybe you'll love it-- lots of people do, clearly. And it's worth a try if you're really into Latin American literature.

For me, the large number of narrators turned me off. After the first part, each one speaks for a few pages only, for hundreds of pages. Once in a while a certain voice would grab me, and I felt compelled to read, but then two or three pages later, Bolaño shifts to another voice. This kind of structure has always been a turn-off for me, and if it is for you too, you may have trouble appreciating this novel.

I also realize that I don't really care about the poetry and literary scene in Mexico in the 1970's. There are tons of "in" references to Mexican poets, critics, and places in Mexico City that will be completely cryptic to most lay readers.

Some of the sex scenes are over the top. Like the woman with the outrageously smelly vagina that would smell up the apartment. I guess that was intended to be funny, but I'm not really sure.

Well, I'm sorry to be in the minority here. I regret missing this train. I will try 2666 soon.

This book is a pretentious piece of something that is, at best, incomprehensible which can only be enjoyed by pseudos and hypocrites that haven't a clue that writing should, in the first instance, be understandable and secondly enjoyable. Nothing further need be said. ARG

First, a note to those readers who found the book slow: well, it is and it isn't. The first part moves along at a fairly fast clip and ends in the midst of a car chase. The very long second part, called "The Savage Detectives," presents forty-odd narrators, some recurring, some not, who take us through about thirty years of life, love, madness, poetry, children lost in caves, Latin American poets lost in Africa, and people generally (even savagely!) lost in their own lives. About fifty pages into this section, I too was getting annoyed, wondering where all this could possibly be going and what the point could possibly be. Then, the slow accretion of narratives and themes began to reveal the grand melancholy at the multi-layered heart of this brilliant book, and I was enthralled. The novel's third and final section is brief and brutal. I'll avoid spoilers here, but the ending conveys an inevitable and exhausted disillusionment only comparable, to my mind, to that of Sentimental Education, although Bolano is perhaps not quite so cynical as Flaubert. Or is he? His poets seem to be either anti-heros in spite of themselves, or sincere and manipulative poseurs; and yet, for as much as we may know about them, some mysteries about these characters simply cannot be solved. Formally, the book challenges our expectations of a novel (and although Bolano is compared most often to Borges, whose work and image he praised in interviews, formally he reminds me more of Julio Cortazar, although without quite the same ludic bravado as in, say, Hopscotch); thematically, it challenges ideals we may hold for art, especially if we are artists. And if my review makes The Savage Detectives sound like a long and somber read, trust me--it is exuberant and heartbreaking in its pursuit of both comedy and tragedy.

Here is a helpful note, if someone is recommending Bolano to you to read: read The Savage Detectives first, and then read 2666. The development in Bolano's writing mastery from The Savage Detectives, which is without a doubt brilliant, to 2666 is amazing. I read 2666 first so when I read SD, I was constantly aware of the difference in writing style/development/mastery from SD to 2666, though the awareness did not hurt my appreciation of The Savage Detectives.

SD is Bolano practice of the Spanish picaresque style where bohemian romantic ways are reduced to decadence, degeneracy and frequently madness in Europe, North America, South America and Africa. This is a cosmopolitan voice and writer who lives(d) in the world, rather than indigenously and speaking from a place of contained experience. Bolano's familiarity with the world, cities, their characteristics and detail is stunning in SD. His access to the world and his examination of it and the transient people who move about it is the riveting accomplishment of this work that also hinges on wonderful narrations, that convey the narrative and characterize the speaker and protagonists; and a structure deeply dependent upon motifs and leitmotifs that allow his themes and metaphors to reverberate with rich meaning. This is a very organically structured novel that lays the bed for the more complex structure of 2666.

Furthermore, the seeds of 2666 are in SD, the wandering, the random life influences that bring change, the very segmented narration and the Bolano characters' obsessions with quests, to investigate and understand people, things or circumstances that contribute meaning or no meaning and purpose to the characters' lives.

SD book is an original. The voice of Bolano is a big one and will last. He mixes Artaud, Celine, Burroughs, Kerouac, Baudelaire and Rimbaud in his own bohemian world. Yet his voice is new. SD book is amazing, a romantic road trip involving poets, artists, and bohemes and is as good as it gets, until you read 2666.

100 pages in and longing for death. I've decided to divorce this book and go back to the vastly superior writings of Marquez. Reading about this book is much more interesting than the book itself -- never a good sign. This will go on my list for all time soporific tomes.

Reading this book, I kept thinking for some reason of "Citizen Kane." Not in the plot, but in the structure. The person you never see in the narrative seems to be acting much in the same way as the reporter in "Kane," gathering information from documents (the diary) and from eyewitness accounts (the entire second section) in an attempt to piece together the lives of Ulises Lima and Arturo Belano. These characters, who are arguably the novel's protagonists, seem to be more like ghosts than main characters. They haunt the diary, making sudden appearances and then disappearing again just as quickly. They are ostensibly the subject of the oral history section, and even while the various narrators have their own set of concerns and preoccupations, Belano and Lima are never far from the surface. Much like in "Kane," this technique of revealing the characters only through the recollections of other characters lends them a mythic quality that haunts their entire quest.

First of all, Natasha Wimmer does a great job with this translation. Considering the author's poetic style, I'm sure it must have been difficult.

Bolaño tells the story of a fictional poetry movement, the 'visceral realists', an anti-Octavio Paz group based in Mexico City (apparently modeled on Bolaño's own experiences with a similar movement called the 'infrarealists' ).

What's so great about this book , for me, is not so much the story but rather how the story is revealed: through so many unique voices (over 50?); one of whom being Juan Garcia Madero, a 17 year old student of poetry and one of the original anti-Paz "gang". His diary, which elevates the tale to a mythic quest, frames the novel in the 1970's.
The middle section of the book reads almost like a documentary; a sort of literary verité. It masterfully patches together the experiences of the quixotic figures, Arturo Belano (Bolaño?) and Ulises Lima, leaders of so-called 'visceral realists', from the reminiscences of tangential characters in their lives.

This is a novel you can read over and over and still pick up something new each time. I am looking forward to the upcoming Bolaño translation (thankfully by Wimmer as well) called "2666".

Well into The Savage Detectives, one character says to the other: "The visual arts are ultimately incomprehensible. Or they're so comprehensible that nobody, first and foremost myself, will accept the most obvious reading of them." Substitute "written" for the "visual" arts and you get a taste for what you are in for in this book: a combination of wisdom, puzzle and in-joke.

I loved the book and am now hunting down other Bolano novels. The Savage Detectives is not easy - two sections of conventional narrative set in Mexico about our poet heroes are split by nearly a 400 page section of oral history, almost like witness statements, from those who encountered them over the subsequent 20 years. The knowledge gained in this intervening section colours and adds a sense of melancholy when the initial narrative resumes. An obvious reference point is the film Y Tu Mama Tambien because of its Mexican setting, its young protagonists on a road trip, and the ephemeral nature of youth's passions (and lots of sex). While the novel's structure is challenging, it holds together because the voices are compelling. The characters ramble, digress, talk your ear off and engage in bawdy, violent and colourful adventures. There is a sense of urgency about their testimony, as though their experiences had to be recorded. While our picture of our main protagonists is never complete, often contradictory, there is a real power here. Bolano wrestles with representing the fullness of a life, while at the same time acknowledging the impossibility of ever doing so. We may be the centre of our own individual universes but in the end we are just dust in the wind.

This is a book to read at a good steady pace - too fast will mean you will not savour the words and small clues left along the way, too slow and you will lose track of the multiple threads. One of the best books I've read in the last five years.

Que inesperada alegria fue encontrarme con el libro mas hermoso que he leido. La forma como Bolanos describe el devenir de un par de bohemios del D.F. arrastrados por una ilusion poetica, y el drama conmovedor con que se forjan los cimientos de esta vision, hacen de este libro una obra maestra.

No pude parar de reirme, de identificarme, de llorar con la astucia con que el autor recrea la realidad incierta en que se tejen las vidas de estos que suenan, luchan y enganan por tratar de definir una nueva estetica que los transforme.

Me dio nostagia llegar al final de este libro, por que por momentos la trama me convirtio en otro adolescente alucinado, y que es la poesia? si no adolescencia destilada.

Clearly I am just not getting something here. I had heard nothing but rave reviews of this book and this posthumously-received (at least in America) author. I have learned from this reading experience to take a huge grain of salt with any book with the NY Times Book of the Year stamp on it.

Imagine Henry Miller without the cursing and drinking, then add a 20 year time-span and you kinda see where this novel is going; i.e., nowhere fast. It's about a group of men (primarily), mostly living abroad, having a lot of sex, and otherwise doing nothing. Technically it's about a group of poets based out of Mexico called the "visceral realists," led by Ulises Lima and Arturo Belano. The work is in three parts: parts I and III are diary entries of the teenager Juan Garcia Madero. These entries chronicle Madero's initial involvement in the visceral movement in Mexico City circa 1976. Part II-by far the longest part-is a roughly 400 page series of interview/diary-type entries from a collection of no less than 20 characters from 1976 to 1996. The worst-part: this section is not chronologically or geographically arranged. First it's 1976 and we're still in Mexico, then it's 1983 and we're in Israel, then back to 1979 but now we're in Barcelona. It's ridiculous. I'm not sure what's more random, the "structure" of the book or the "plot points" the "characters" have to tell.

The worst part about this book was that I just couldn't see the point. What was Bolano trying to say? What was a reader supposed to learn from Arturo, Ulises, and Juan? How were we supposed to feel about the visceral realist movement? These questions remain completely unanswered, which makes it very hard for me to feel that this book is worth keeping, reading again, or recommending.

Before reading this novel I was completely unfamiliar with Roberto Bolano's work, after...he's one of my favorite writers. I went into this not knowing what expect because of the title, "The Savage Detectives". This novel doesn't have too much to do with detectives though. Its all about writers, poets, scholars, journalists, intellectuals,etc. If you are interested in any of that. Go get this book immediately. Not to mention its an extremely fluid and easy read. More like a conversation with one of over fifty characters. I also recommend 2666 by Bolano. Very similiar in structure, but a much darker story. I believe Bolano is very much a writer's writer.

This book tracks a handful of young, Latin American poets and their cohorts around the world and through time from the 1970s to the 1990s. Widely hailed by critics, The Savage Detectives has developed a devoted following among literary types. After suffering through all 500+ pages, I'm not ashamed to say I don't get the hype. The book seems self-indulgent and sloppy to me. There's very little narrative or character development to sustain the reader's interest. Instead of substance, the book is clogged with obscure poetry terms, small Mexican towns, down-and-out poets, and other annoying things that will leave many wondering "why bother?" I'm giving this book 1 star for its exhaustive use of an interesting structure, ½ star for some entertaining subplots and engaging characters, and ½ point for its overall hip tone, for a grand total of 2 stars out of 5.

Through a dozen viewpoints, Roberto Bolano recounts the lives of two visceral surrealist poets--Arthuro Belano and Ulises Lima. From Mexico City to Paris to Barcelona, the poets live their chaotic lives and seek to initiate a new movement in Latin American poetry. They encounter Octavio Paz and other prominent poets, but most of the time they live as outcasts of the literary community. Through their adventures and exploits, we can glimpse into Roberto Bolano's life and his struggle to usher a new direction in poetry. The Savage Detectives is a literary tour-de-force that lets us glimpse into the Latin American literary community.

A comedy? A tragedy? A tragic-comedy? A cryptographic exercise? A horror? A triumphal march? A Mystery? A comic monologue? A dirge in the void? Perhaps all nine. This is a brilliant novel. Complex. Literary. But not pedantic, didactic or doctrinaire. It's about being young in the world. It's about voice. It's hilarious. Erotic. Dark. A stalemate. A draw. A threnody. The Savage Detectives is a homage to Bolaño's comrades.

In order to respond to those who cannot discern what the purpose of this book is, or who continually inquire 'What is Belano trying to say?' You must make it to Chapter 21, 'Daniel Grossman, sitting on a bench in the Alameda, Mexico City DF, February 1993' and listen to what Norman Bolzman says, 'then all of a sudden I understood everything...' But of course you don't understand anything until you read the 450+ pages prior to this. Its life people. Tears and all. Live it.

There's something wholly real about this book. It touches on loss, passion, the futility of artistic endeavors, how coming of age in Latin America in the 1970s screwed up a generation of Latin Americans, and the ideal of the artistic life.

This is Bolano's first masterpiece which just so happens to reflect his life, a life which also must be viewed as a masterpiece of sorts in all of its wayfaring depth. This is required reading for any poet or any prospective poet from every continent on this rotating globe. The writing transcends country and culture and reminds us how interconnected we all are. Although this is a novel, the savage detective within you will recognize the poetry. Beware, when you read this book you will be changed. Of course, you will also experience the universality of this true poet and that should seem like a fair deal if you are so inclined. Natasha Wimmer's first remarkable translation of Bolano succeeds on every level.

Bolano himself has called his 600-page novel The Savage Detectives "a love letter to [his] generation". However, The Savage Detectives is both a valentine and an indictment to his generation, as all great works, I think, are.

Know that this is a book that will change your life, transform your eyes, mind, and heart. The Savage Detectives is a verifiable and bonafide masterpiece, choke full of urgency, mystery, animus, humor, sadness, and heart.

Though perhaps daunting due to its length and somewhat complex structure, this is a surprisingly readable and refreshingly unpretentious book. A brilliant, brilliant work. I cannot recommend this one enough. This is a master at the height of his powers, a book that will stand alongside the greats.

This book was the best book I read in 2008, hands down, and possibly the best I've read, maybe ever (a dangerous statement, I know).

I could go on forever about this one. I won't. You should check it out for yourself.

Difficult to understand the raves for his breakthrough, a mismash of Thornton Wilder and Gabriel Marquez by way of Kerouac. It's interesting in its bold attempt to fling all these voices together and let the reader try to draw the narrative threads together, but it's not that successful.

Bolano is a a master storyteller. Best book i've read in years.

THE STORY: Ulises Lima and Arturo Belano are the young leaders of literary movement they call the Visceral Realists, think BaaderMeinhoff Literary Brigade. The movement is part-gag -- a sendup of Andre Breton's surrealist movement and its "purges" -- but also an attack on the old guard of Latin American literature, people like Octavio Paz (who they jokingly/seriously threaten to kidnap) and Garcia Marquez. They show up with their teenage cohorts at literary events and heckle the sacred cows as the old men of letters attempt to recite their poetry! They threaten their critics with duels (as any self respecting man of letters must do)! Some of the Visceral Realists don't even appear to read! The motley group of Mexico City street kids -- Ulises, Arturo, Lupe, Garcia Madero, Maria and Angelica Font, Luscious Skin, San Estifanio -- are bonded by their belief in poetry, the poets life, their alienation, and their youth.

The story follows this gang from their beginnings in 1970s Mexico City through their wanderings throughout the world (Spain, France, West and Central Africa, Latin America, San Diego)and into the 1990s. The realization that the life of a poet is both the happiest and the saddest thing. And it finds Arturo, Ulises, Garcia Madero, and Lupe lost in the Sonora Desert running from an angry pimp and searching for a lost poet, the first Visceral Realist, a woman who disappeared into the desert some forty years before.

Oh yeah, there's alot of sex and drugs, some violence, poignancy and irreverancy. And there's a lot of poetry.

I can't recommend it enough, especially for those who believe that books can offer more than entertainment, for those who dream the naive and true dream that books and the people who write them are revolutionary.

This book reminded me of my college years. The wondering, the group/ group leader thing, living upon the belief that art and poetry could make a difference, but not really believing it, or caring, really. I highly recommend this book.

This novel is at once witty, audacious and sometimes cruel. Bolano has lots of axes to grind and grind away he does, sharpening his skill to better eviserate the holies of the Boom. Which all makes for lots of laughs and a bit of squirming. Best of all, however, are the searing monologues delivered by characters whose passionately related experiences serve to reveal the political and artistic history of twentieth century Latin America. A Masterpiece!!!

This is not a plot-driven book, but the characters are fascinating and the language is so compelling. What makes it even more impressive is that this is a translation from the Spanish, and yet the (very colloquial) book seems as fresh and vital as if it were a serious of transcripts from highly articulate, psychologically complex individuals. It's a must-read for people interested in Latin American fiction or the art of translation, but it's also a great book for voyeurs/eavesdroppers.

I ordred this Book with high hopes of an enjoyable read while I was training -Army- out in the Desert of Ft. Irwin, CA for a Month. The Book lasted about 2 Weeks Tops when too many Pages kept coming off the Binding. I tried to press on and read but every time I turned a Page or looked at it sideways the Page would come completely out. Now I realize I was in a Hot Dry environment but I take care of my Books -even in the Field as I was- and had Books survive the rigors of 15 Months on Patrol in a Backpack in Iraq -L.A. Rex, Mein Kampf to name some Hardcovers- that I still have without Damage... so I suggest maybe getting the Paperback.

Of What I read I really did enjoy but the Issue with the Pages really killed it for me.

Its an awesome book that keeps you wondering whats going to happen next. The way the stories interweave and the dialogue between the characters is great. The translation was extremely fluid. Oh yeah and in case you haven't figured it out its not really a Detective novel but more like following a written documentary spanning 30 years piecing together the lives of a misfit poetry group from Mexico City.

This is a very cool and oddly compelling book. It reminds me in part of both the movie "Y Tu Mama Tambien" and also of Russian novelists of the latter part of the 19th century, such as Turgenev or Lermontov. Understand that Belano's writing style is absolutely nothing like the Russians, but some of the atmosphere, underlying themes and the way he portrays young men reminded me of that era. If you have read anything of Belano's life, you know that he was a romantic, an idealist and was undoubtedly so hip and cool that he didn't even need to know what was passing for cool to epitomize it. If you like Latin American fiction this is a great one to try, though it's very different from other SA literature in translation which I have read.

This books starts out great. I could identify with Garcia Madera, and I enjoyed learning about the various characters and visceral realism from his sort of naive perspective.

Then the diary takes a 500 or so page break where we hear from twenty or thirty people about their experiences, almost all of which are very boring. I think even the biggest fans of this book would acknowledge that there is no story. The story of young Garcia Madera ends after 50 or so pages, and after that it is just endless words. Characters are uninteresting, and, rather than get more interesting as the book goes on, become less interesting the more you learn about them (which is not very much).

I would pass on this book. There are literally thousands out there. I wish that I had read almost any other book.

Not since Borges has a Latin American writer placed literature itself as the central concern of his fiction as Bolano so explicitly and touchingly does in The Savage Detectives. "Life put us all in our place or in the place that suited her, and then forgot us, as it should be," Bolano writes, and, by the time you finish this unique novel, you too will share the belief of its protagonists, that being forgotten is a fair price to pay for following your love of reading to the end of the world.

Didn't get this. Too many characters, too rambling, too convoluted. Couldn't wait to finish it, threw it in the trash and took it directly to the dumpster.
I have to say, I got a little bit interested in the last 10 pages.
Too challenging for me and I read a lot!

If you are tired of self conscious, ironic, artificially crafted, eager to please, MFA fiction...

If you secretly or openly are dying for some writing with a spine...

If you are fully alive and afraid...

If you are almost alive (like me) and courageous enough to want to become fully alive and afraid...

If you are unafraid and a fool...

Bolano himself has called his 600-page novel The Savage Detectives "a love letter to [his] generation". However, The Savage Detectives is both a valentine and an indictment to his generation, as all great works, I think, are.

Know that this is a book that will change your life, transform your eyes, mind, and heart. The Savage Detectives is a verifiable and bonafide masterpiece, choke full of urgency, mystery, animus, humor, sadness, and heart.

Though perhaps daunting due to its length and somewhat complex structure, this is a surprisingly readable and refreshingly unpretentious book. A brilliant, brilliant work. I cannot recommend this one enough. This is a master at the height of his powers, a book that will stand alongside the greats.

This book was the best book I read in 2008, hands down, and possibly the best I've read, maybe ever (a dangerous statement, I know).

I could go on forever about this one. I won't. You should check it out for yourself.

While there's plenty to say about The Savage Detectives, I'm still reeling from seeing a paltry two dozen reader reviews for what is heralded as the most important Mexican novel in recent history... Zounds!

It's a given that outside of Carlos Puentes and Octavio Paz, not many Americanos (me included) are familiar with Mexican writers. And admittedly, Bolaño was actually from Chile, but he was quite the nomad, and this is very much a Mexican novel. In any event, the characters in the late Roberto Bolaño's book are so immersed in the world of Mexican poetry, their name-dropping and references may leave other Norteamericanos bewildered. Which MIGHT explain the book's seemingly low profile among readers here.

As to the book proper, its story is narrated by different youthful characters, some of whom are apparently mentally ill. My reading experience of their accounts varied between a slog (there isn't much of anything resembling a plot) interspersed with absolute gems of writing, like this unlikely description of a love scene:

"Then everything turned into a succession of concrete acts and proper nouns and verbs, or pages from an anatomy manual scattered like flower petals, chaotically linked."

By virtue of that passage alone, The Savage Detectives earned my good will. And other treasures await the patient reader. ("Patient" being the key word.)

I read this book in his original idiom, spanish, so i can't say nothing about the american translation.

As all Bolaño, his reading is a deap-in obscure and humorous and realy touches you in this site that could it be in regret. His writting is in the best line of vanguardist and new form and structure

I don't like to tell about the plot. Find it.

If you are a good reader, this book is for you.

I hesitate to criticize Roberto Bolano too much, because many people find great enjoyment in his work. You might be one of them. I simply did not like this novel.

Much has been written about the brilliance of The Savage Detectives, but I found it merely unusual, not brilliant. There are parallels to The Dharma Bums, with the aimless wanderings of the characters, their deliberate bohemian lives, and their radical ideas about literature, politics and sexuality. There is extensive discussion about literature, but it is mostly an absurd discussion, often written for laughs that I could not appreciate. The nihilism of the author, reflected in his characters, may strike a cord in those of similar outlook. Unfortunately, I did not like the main characters. They steal from helpless people, smoke dope, sell drugs, and occasionally write poetry which you never get to read. Worse, I have the impression that Bolano did not care for them either.

Reading this novel was a depressing experience. I find it difficult to enjoy a novel unless I care about someone in the book. Great literature does not have to be enjoyable, but there was more missing from this story than enjoyment. His wandering, discursive style is difficult to follow. Perhaps Bolano was making a point about pointlessness, but after several hundred pages, I didn't care anymore. I don't believe that this book deserves all of the praise that has been lavished upon it.

There is a confusing quantity of characters and they are presented by way of brief monologues given by each. The plot becomes almost tangential to their often narcissistic musings and is difficult to identify. However more damning is the fact that few of the characters are appealing--several are actually unappealing, including the two supposed protagonists. Add to this the author's penchant for having his characters deliver long lists of names of literary figures and you have the makings of an aggravating experience. Probably best left for the academics, for whom it was probably written.
On a positive note, I found the book easy to read in Spanish--the language was clear and easy to follow even for the length of sentences Bolaño has his characters formulate.

Unless you are well versed in Latin American poetry, be prepared to totally miss references to other authors. This can go on for whole pages at a time. It is very seldom (never) that I don't finish a book once started. This one, however, I had to put away. Boring

I venture to say that "The Savage Detectives" is the second best novel by a Latin-American writer. The inner workings of the book remind me of Lezama-Lima's "Paradiso." I would put him on the same level as Kafka, Nabokov and Genet. How sad he is not still w/ us.

Excuse me for referring the reader to Durrell's crude, but appropriate quote. After all I had heard about Bolano I hoped to find a work of real substance. Any substance found here, I am sorry to say, is sheer projection. The emperor, at least by this effort, has no clothes. But there are a lot of people who 'love literature' out there and want literature to be, well, literature, writers who want simply to writers. And in a world drowning in its own loud thoughtlessness I am not surprised that this is being celebrated as literary greatness. In reality, though, it is cleverness, but a poor substitute for insight into anything to do with life - other, of course, than narcissism.

I agree with the other 1-star reviewers. There is no plot. There are no characters to care about. I can't believe that others have written about how "moving" they found this novel. I'm a voracious reader; I average a book a week. This is now the third book ever that I've given up on.

the worst book i ever read, long , boring , gross unnecessary language, unnecessary pages, i hated the book, i kept reading in the hope that at the end the story makes sense but there is not ending at all, super boring. super dissapointed with this book.