This week’s book made me feel like dropping to my knees and praising the sun in the sky. I actually ENJOYED the novel; who could have thought!! However, let’s not get it twisted, I was sometimes still confused throughout the story. You’d think our main character would be a chameleon, right? Wrong, he is a gecko!
This is not the most incoherent aspect of the book (especially after watching the lecture). Still, it definitely left me expectant to see if Félix would transform into a chameleon physically rather than metaphorically. Instead, we saw him falling into an existentialistic spiral, repeatedly considering events to be a mere dream (which blurred the line for me to see what was tangible and what was in his mind as well).
Perhaps this was a trauma response, both creating dreams to make things more digestible and tolerable or to eventually forget. That being said, dreams are usually fleeting, and either Félix truly feels sad about missing the chameleon—Eulalio—or he is frightened of the action of regressing memories and challenges this through his diary. Maybe I am looking too forward into this and applying my Psychology major to inconsequential moments…
Anyhow, José Eduardo Agualusa’s novel conjured a whirlwind of emotions, from awe at the writing style to baffling laughs at the plot points, confusion about whether I’m dreaming as well, and borderline existentialism about how life moves forward and whether I am just a chameleon too…
Clearly, this book made me feel a myriad of emotions. Some may find this annoying and bothersome, but this is what I seek in a book! A text littered with unique and complex tools — both in sentiments and plot points. This feeling is similar to one of the first lines in the story: “I don’t believe it—are you laughing? The creature’s amazement annoyed me. I was afraid, but I didn’t move, not a muscle.”
It may be odd, but this line lingered in my mind, maybe because the first page is impressionable or because you can connect more meaning to it (at least in my experience). With Agualusa’s novel, it left me perplexed left and right, yet I could not put the text down — like my muscle was cramping or if I was frozen, standing in front of a scorpion (but not meeting death, thankfully, unlike Elualio RIP POOR BABY). Despite the atypical storytelling, it was rich in characters, literary devices, and entertainment! It definitely would be hard to find a book talking about the complexity of human behaviour and nature in this type of manner!
My question to you: Could you see a connection to repressed memories and dreams? Do you think Félix could be acting this way out of a trauma response? Or am I being batshit crazy 🙁
I do think this book has a lot to say about trauma… but not so obviously with Félix, but definitely with Gouveia/Buchmann and Angela Lucia, and perhaps also Barata dos Reis. I’m surprised that you don’t mention these characters. Moreover, it may have something to say about Angola’s *national* psyche, after what Agualusa makes clear was a traumatic recent past.
Hi Franny! I enjoyed reading your thoughts this week! I too thoroughly enjoyed this book and felt like I could not put it down. It fascinated me to hear you think the dreams in this book are Felix’s and not the gecko’s and could have something to do with trauma. In my opinion, I leaned into the questionable “magic” of this book and really believed the gecko and Felix were communicating in a dream realm! Anyways, thanks for this!
B.B.
Hi Franny! If I was giving awards for this weeks book, you would definitely win best title 🙂 Now, I would sat that Felix may be doing this as a trauma response. I’m not really sure about what his trauma would be. I think, him writing in his diary, would be more considered a trauma response to mister geckos death. As for his other dreams, may be he has some unaddressed issues we don’t really know about.