{"product_id":"difficult-light-isbn-9781939810601","title":"Difficult Light","description":"\u003cb\u003eGrappling with his son's death, the painter David explores his grief through art and writing, etching out the rippled landscape of his loss.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOver twenty years after his son's death, nearly blind and unable to paint, David turns to writing to examine the deep shades of his loss. Despite his acute pain, or perhaps because of it, David observes beauty in the ordinary: in the resemblance of a woman to Egyptian portraits, in the horseshoe crabs that wash up on Coney Island, in the foam gathering behind a ferry propeller; in these moments, González reveals the world through a painter's eyes. From one of Colombia's greatest contemporary novelists, \u003ci\u003eDifficult Light\u003c\/i\u003e is a formally daring meditation on grief, written in candid, arresting prose.\u003ci\u003e\"Difficult Light\u003c\/i\u003e is a story of living while waiting for inevitable loss to occur . . . Rosenberg’s translation is . . . notable for the lucid, compassionate tone it strikes in capturing the ordinary moments and conversations that permeate life, whether at its height or at its end.\" \u003cb\u003e— National Translation Award committee\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A quiet and modest novel that struck me with its lovely prose and profound insights. . . Gonzalez focuses on the glimpses of beauty, the shards of light found in the everyday. A thoughtful meditation on art, family and loss; this slim novel reads like an afternoon reverie, hazy, supple, tinged with sadness and joy.\" \u003cb\u003e— \u003ci\u003eLithub\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"A very poetic reverie...This is in some ways a reflection on aging...and in others simply a picturesque and vivid remembrance of the moments that mattered in one person's life. At the bottom of it all is the narrator's unending grief over his son, Jacobo, paralyzed when a junkie driving a pickup truck struck the taxi he was riding in at the time...The book’s narrative style is both modest and subdued, no doubt aided by Rosenberg, who previously translated the author’s last work, \u003ci\u003eThe Storm\u003c\/i\u003e (2018).\" \u003cb\u003e— \u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"In González’s genial, reflective tale, a recently widowed Colombian painter composes a narrative of his family’s life in the U.S. and the death of their oldest son . . . laced with moments of beauty and domestic peace . . . González achieves a brilliant triangulation of a man’s attempts at self-expression through two artistic mediums.\" \u003cb\u003e-- \u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"González's last two novels, \u003ci\u003eDifficult Light\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Storm\u003c\/i\u003e were both hailed as quiet masterpieces at the time of their publication in Colombia... Through all his work you find the peaceful writing that admirably traces the ugliness of the world; the confidence of the narrative voice, seemingly conventional while eschewing the straitjackets of realism... he has a mysterious ability to uplift the commonplace and turn it into unforgettable images through careful observation and sensuous detail.\" \u003cb\u003e-- Juan Gabriel Vásquez, \u003ci\u003eThe Guardian\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"There’s hard light indeed for 78-year-old artist David, who’s recently widowed, unable to paint owing to failing eyesight, and at home in Colombia, using a magnifying glass and blackberry-sized letters to record grievous events that unfolded when he and his family lived in 1980s Manhattan...González unfolds the story in luminous, reverberant language all the more heart-wrenching for eschewing graphic detail; David’s painterly sensitivity is enough.\" -- \u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eLibrary Journal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\"[Tomás González] writes with authority about transient relationships with cities and people, pairing joys with inevitable losses . . .  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eDifficult Light\u003c\/i\u003e presents the power of creativity over isolation and mortality. It reminds the reader that when the outside world becomes inaccessible, the interior realm still holds traces of all that we’ve lost.\"  \u003cbr\u003e -- \u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eRain Taxi Review\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A quiet meditation on many of life’s Big Things: grief, love, art . . . González’s narrator unwinds his time- and space-hopping narrative in a voice, carried deftly by Rosenberg, that does not waver in its gentle warmth.\" \u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e— Words Without Borders\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Tomás González has once again given voice to a sorrowful sermon. Rending and tender, \u003ci\u003eDifficult Light\u003c\/i\u003e is a novel of familial sacrifice and agonizing acceptance, an exercise in retracing old wounds amid the gathering abundance of time. An affecting altarpiece, through and through.\" \u003cb\u003e--Justin, Bookshop.org\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"\u003ci\u003eDifficult Light\u003c\/i\u003e by Tomás González is about an old painter rapidly turning blind, mediating on one of the most impactful events in his life, the death of his oldest son Jacobo...counting down the minutes to the scheduled death of this beloved son, which could be called off at any moment, if the son wished to do so, is part of the strange thrill of the book. As the implications for the looming deadline become more clear, the countdown adds a slightly perverted sense of suspense.\" \u003cb\u003e— Franziska Lamprecht, \u003ci\u003eFull Stop\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Tomás González has the potential to become a classic of Latin American literature.\" \u003cb\u003e-- Elfriede Jelinek, Winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"González invokes both Hemingway and Faulkner in his treatment of tortured family dynamics and laces the three-way banter in the boat with a fascinating, near-toxic atmosphere of machismo.\" \u003cb\u003e-- Publisher's Weekly on \u003ci\u003eThe Storm\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"In Andrea Rosenberg's translation, the author's stylistic traits - short and pointed phrases, poetic descriptions and poetic monologues - shine and linger in the reader's ear...​​\u003ci\u003eThe Storm\u003c\/i\u003e​​ arrives as a welcome addition to the international recognition of one Colombia's most prolific and poetic writers.\" \u003cb\u003e- Nicolás Llano, \u003ci\u003eAsymptote Journal\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Self-delusion, hallucinations, anger, volatility chafe against the soothing waters and the stars above, and González, one of South America's most acclaimed and pitch-perfect novelists, plunges you into the brutality of man and nature alike.\" \u003cb\u003e- Kerri Arsenault on \u003ci\u003eThe Storm\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere is humor in the frequent revelation of self-delusions. There is also suspense as the storm - more interpersonal than weather-related - builds and breaks. Fabulist elements, lyrical prose, and a chorus of narrative voices give this slim novel depth and breadth. \u003cb\u003e- \u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e on \u003ci\u003eThe Storm\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\"Tomás González has once again given voice to a sorrowful sermon. Rending and tender, Difficult Light is a novel of familial sacrifice and agonizing acceptance, an exercise in retracing old wounds amid the gathering abundance of time. An affecting altarpiece through and through.\" \u003cbr\u003e–\u003cb\u003e Justin Walls, Bookshop.org\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A poignant, beautiful book touching upon big themes of family, loss, art, and the critical question of whether death can provide relief from a life filled with chronic pain. González is compassionate without being overtly sentimental. It’s a deeply moving novel that dwells on the intimacy and humour of a family, of displaying resilience amid pain, and as another author has put it, “manages to say new things about the way we feel.”\u003cbr\u003e –– Radhika Pandit, \u003ci\u003eRadhika’s Reading Retreat\u003c\/i\u003eSelf-delusion,   hallucinations, anger, volatility chafe against the soothing waters and the   stars above, and González, one of South America's most acclaimed and   pitch-perfect novelists, plunges you into the brutality of man and nature   alike.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e — Kerri ArsenaultTomás  González was born in 1950 in Medellín, Colombia. He studied Philosophy  before becoming a barman in a Bogotá nightclub, whose owner published  his first novel in 1983. González has lived in Miami and New York, where  he wrote much of his work while making a living as a translator. After  twenty years in the US, he returned to Colombia, where he now lives. His  books have been translated into six languages, and his previous novel, \u003ci\u003eThe Storm\u003c\/i\u003e, was published by Archipelago with translator Andrea Rosenberg.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAndrea Rosenberg is a translator from the Spanish and Portuguese and an editor of the \u003ci\u003eBuenos Aires Review\u003c\/i\u003e. Among her recent and forthcoming full-length translations are Inês Pedrosa's \u003ci\u003eIn Your Hands\u003c\/i\u003e, Aura Xilonen's \u003ci\u003eThe Gringo Champion\u003c\/i\u003e, Juan Gómez Bárcena's \u003ci\u003eThe Sky over Lima\u003c\/i\u003e, and David Jiménez's \u003ci\u003eChildren of the Monsoon\u003c\/i\u003e.One\u003cbr\u003e That night I spent a lot of time awake. Beside me, Sara wasn’t sleeping either. I looked at\u003cbr\u003e her brown shoulders, her back, still slender at fifty-nine, and found solace in her beauty. From\u003cbr\u003e time to time we held hands. In the apartment nobody was sleeping, nobody was talking.\u003cbr\u003e Occasionally someone coughed or went to pee and then went back to bed. Our friends Debrah\u003cbr\u003e and James had come to keep us company and had settled down on a mattress in the living room.\u003cbr\u003e Venus, Jacobo’s girlfriend, had gone to his room to lie down. My sons Jacobo and Pablo had left\u003cbr\u003e two days earlier in a rented van, heading for Chicago. From there, they’d taken a plane to\u003cbr\u003e Portland. At one point I thought I heard the faint sound of Arturo, my youngest son, strumming\u003cbr\u003e his guitar in his room. In the street I could hear the nighttime shouts of the Lower East Side, the\u003cbr\u003e familiar tinkle of breaking bottles. At about three in the morning, two or three Hells Angels\u003cbr\u003e thundered by on their motorcycles from their clubhouse two blocks away. I slept almost four\u003cbr\u003e hours straight, dreamlessly, until I was awakened at seven by the knot of grief in my belly at the\u003cbr\u003e death of my son Jacobo, which we’d scheduled for seven that night, Portland time, ten o’clock in\u003cbr\u003e New York.","brand":"Archipelago","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302936006885,"sku":"NP9781939810601","price":18.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781939810601.jpg?v=1767725114","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/difficult-light-isbn-9781939810601","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}