Customer Reviews

The Empanada Brotherhood

5 star:		(8)
4 star:		(15)
3 star:		(5)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

The Empanda Brotherhood opens with the flash of quick action and flaming hot, to-the-point dialogue which (as it turns out) is a characteristic of the entire novel. After a half-dozen short chapters, I began to wonder if I had made a mistake buying this book: the characters are simplistic or simply vulgar, Argentinian immigrants whose lives are conditioned by gutter-talk (not my usual reading preference). But then--strange thing!--I began to think my way out of this dilemma; strange, I say, because thinking is not what the men do at the empanada stand, and yet, "Blondie," the narrator, storyteller, and observer--and the author's persona--does a lot of thinking. The empanada stand is where Blondie waits and watches and witnesses. Between the quiet, tender observations of Blondie, the reader can see that these rough characters really think and feel.

And it's absolutely clear that college-educated Blondie feels something for these proletarian-like working stiffs. At several points, I was sure that the rejection letters Blondie gets for his college romance novel (which later becomes The Sterile Cuckoo) tie him closely to these denizens of Greenwich Village. They have all failed in some way to find the American dream, but they dream in their own way--and that becomes the heroism of this novel.

Unforgettably, music plays a large role in the subtle magic of this narrative. The flamenco guitar and dance beat out a tempo and waves of emotion. The dancer, Cathy, and the guitarist, Jorge, come alive visually on the page. The scenes in the dance studio create a counterpoint to all the silent pondering that weighs on Blondie's young heart. There is a kind of melancholy that characterizes this novel: lost youth, vanished friends, lost New York, music heard no more. I'd like to think that, like the dancer, the narrator Blondie has found the *duende* he seeks: that incandescent fire that burns us from the inside, the flame of life itself.

Although this is called "a novel", it reads like an autobiographical memoir written by an older artist about his early days in a magnificently rich atmosphere surrounded by other would-be artists and assorted eccentrics. Hemingway's A Moveable Feast comes to mind while reading this book and this connection is supported as Nichols' has his characters mention Hemingway several times throughout the book. Also, Nichols' fondness for oddballs & eccentrics & ne'er-do-wells recalls Henry Miller. But Nichols transcends these influences and makes something that is uniquely his own for this is not simply an artist's memoir. What makes this such a unique reading experience is that this is not just another book about a young artist but also a book about the wistful unreality of expatriot (and other) communities that form and last only so long as their provisional meeting places (in this case an empanada stand) that serve as their ad-hoc centers last. So, along with being a novel about a writer's coming-of-age it is also a brilliant novel about the ephemerality of friendship, of love, of community and of life in general. And an excellent one at that.

The characters are each almost too eccentric to function. They are each damaged in some way: some are physically damaged and some debilitated by their larger-than-life passions or lack of money. Even though we slowly get to know that each has arrived in the village for his/her own set of reasons, these are not fully fleshed out characters. But this actually works just fine because in their respective states of exile the world does not seem altogether real for any of them and so it is fitting that they do not seem altogether real to us. The characters are less like ordinary humans anyway, and more like victims of their own fiery passions and unfulfilled dreams haunting the cafes and streets, and each of these exiled character's lives unravels right before the young writer's (and our) eyes. The many characters that are encountered, most of them Argentine, each leave a strong impression on the young unnamed writer who stands on the threshold of life but seems too fearful to actually enter into it, that is until the very last pages when he meets a young woman who initiates him into a world more real than the one he had imagined himself to be living in.

The chapters are each very short, more like vignettes of long-stored impressions than like fully developed fictional pieces, but, again, this seems appropriate for the kind of book this is and the kind of characters these are. The entire book is like a series of casually recalled moments; of conversations with various characters ( w/ Alfonso the mathematics prof & movie buff, w/ Luigi the disfigured realist w/ no illusions about life & love); of foreign films that seemed to alter the very fabric of one's existence (Truffaut's Jules & Jim, Pasolini's Accattone); of one's first, and, seemingly strongest, attractions (the white-pantied flamenco dancer/petty thief Cathy Escudero); of intense friendships that are there one minute and vanish in the next; but that is the wistful nature of youth, that is the wistful nature of life, and that is the wistful charm of this book.

Well, it's really not the empanadas that gather the diverse crew together at the Greenwich village eatery. "Blondie" a recent college grad with a dream of becoming a writer narrates the tale of a diverse crew of brothers--and sisters.

There's Chuy, a boy-toy with only one hand, Eduardo and Adriana, who alternately love, then cheat on each other, and at the center, Aureo, the cook and confidante whose place is the center of the meetings.

"Empanada Brotherhood" is a short read, but one you'll want to savor and share with friends who are needing a bit of spice in their lives. Or perhaps gift to the lover of 60s folk music and culture--or a fan of Latin literature.

I've read three or four books by Nichols and love them all, including this one. Wonderful writing. They all have a bittersweet quality to them, mixed in with humor. I find it wonderful how he can create a story that's interesting and keeps your attention, while underneath there is a sort of different current flowing, and every once this current shows up in some sort of unexpected event or observation that provides a much deeper insight into people, relationships, life, etc.

I guess, due to the photo of the main character in the front pages, that this book is autobiographical, a look at a short period of the author's life during the 60s?

If so, I find it all the more fascinating, and would love to see more "autobiographical" stories like this from John Nichols.

Ever since I first read the Sterile Cuckoo I've been a great fan of this author. That book is in my top five favorites, believe it or not, along with the Heart is a Lonely Hunter and Les Miserables.

There's something very unique in John Nichols' writings. If I were a good writer, I could put it better in words. But basically there is a sadness or melancholy in his works, with a lot of humor mixed in, and there's a fair amount of chaos in the situations and circumstances affecting the characters. The result is really great writing, with a lot of insight and compassion.

As a side note, Nichols is excellent at describing the "latin soul."

Michael Martinez

Author John Nichols has a palpable way of transporting a reader back in time to a place - in this case, Greenwich Village in the early 1960's - which has otherwise been defined by the cultural icons inhabiting it like what Jack Kerouac did in his 1958 Beat Generation novel, The Subterraneans. In his eleventh novel, Nichols instead focuses on a group of Argentinean immigrants who hover around a ragtag empanada stand on the corner of Bleecker and MacDougal. From this modest concept, he has etched a vividly evocative microcosm of dreamers and proto-slackers whose interactions drive the imagination of the narrator, an aspiring writer fresh out of college with only a passing knowledge of Spanish. Called Blondie and an obvious doppelganger for the author in his long-ago youth, the young man washes dishes at a local restaurant to get by, but he gets creative inspiration from the men hanging around the food stand.

Nichols appears less interested in plot development and places most of his focus on filling in the details of his idiosyncratic cast of characters. Each comes to life with distinctive traits that make them memorable in Nichols' small world. Blondie may be more of an observer, but the Argentinean brethren live their checkered lives fully. Their camaraderie and conflicts carry the story forward until Blondie becomes infatuated with an ambitious flamenco dancer who inspires the ardor of more than one of the men. The coming-of-age story has a fleeting quality, a sense that nothing will remain the same with these characters and that Blondie, in particular, will move on with his life once he accepts the emotional responsibility previously lacking in his life. One can assume that the college-set novel Blondie is attempting to get published is Nichols' first novel, The Sterile Cuckoo, which has that same fleeting quality (That story became more famous as a 1969 movie directed by Alan J. Pakula and starring Liza Minnelli). The author's unerring ability to capture that sense of time and atmosphere is what makes his latest book a most worthwhile read.

I'd read 'The Milagro Beanfield War' and enjoyed it, so I was very excited to read another novel by this talented author. The Empanada Brotherhood centers around Roldan's Empanada stand in the city where life is looked at from mostly the male perspective by unique, lovable characters. There were so many characters introduced in a short time that I must admit I did have a little trouble keeping them straight on the first read, even with the short chapters, so I read it again. I found the second read very enjoyable and could fully appreciate the humor as we're given a glimpse into the perspectives of amusing men and their women as they move through life, sharing their brief, but opinionated, experiences of the many phases of human relationships.

Chrissy K. McVay - Author

Fresh out of college, "Blondie" had the good fortune to live in The Village in the 60's, pre-British invasion, pre-overinflated rentals, pre-his own success. At that time, $42.50 a month could by a 5th floor walkup (what would it be today, I shudder to think). Being surrounded by a colorful clique of ex-pat Argentinos, he found himself with a wealth of material to draw from. In usual circumstances, it would be easy enough to hammer out a freshman effort given this opportunity. Instead, Nichols waited 40 years before doing so. As a result, these sketches in novel form are more polished and deeply etched than they would be. However, The Sterile Cuckoo, his "college romance" that he's submitting during the course of the novel, proved to be one of the more haunting books of the late 60's and one of the more haunting movies of the early 70's.

This very short novel is set around an empanada stand in Greenwich Village, NYC, in the early sixties. The narrator is a young American aspiring to be a writer. The empananda (meat pies) stand is a kiosk that attracts Argentinian characters. The writer, always the observer, relates, in 60+ very short chapters, the lives of these characters. There are about twenty in the "cast of characters" and the author felt compelled to list them with brief descriptions at the beginning of the book. The scenes are so short and jump from one figure to the next so quickly, that I kept a marker on the page with the cast for reference. It became very helpful.

There is really no compelling plot or character in the book. Each character is a bit unique, or bizzare, as the case may be, and the narrator/writer, known to the associates as "blondie" (being the only non-Hispanic) describes them and the limited action well. He experiences unrequited love with an aspiring flamenco dancer. If there is a theme, it is that all the loser men in the book get women and the straight-laced normal writer gets none. To fit the misfit male characters, the women (there are many fewer) are not exactly the type you would bring home to mother.

The stand is a gathering place for this group of Argentine expatriot associates, whose only bond is the hang-out. When the kiosk closes at the end of the book, the men go their separate ways. Blondie, as a constant and quiet observer, is accepted and allowed to hang with them.

Two of the characters, a math genius torn between two fiances back in Argentina, and the empanada stand owner have something close to friendships with "blondie" and they a bit more depth than the others. But for the most part, this book are encapsulated vignettes of off-beat men. The women are accoutrements except for the object of Blondie's desire who gets more page time than the other females.

The writing is good and the characters are interesting and at times very amusing. The are finely drawn and well portrayed. However, the book does not go much beyond a very good character study of the many off-beat personalities. This was a fun and an appropriately short read. It is enjoyable and some of the unique characters will stay with the reader.

An unlikely group of characters--mostly emigres from Argentina--comes into existence around a tiny empanada stand in lower Manhattan, sometime in the early 1960s. Losers, lovers, scholars, dreamers, street people, perpetual exiles--they come and go, talk, reminisce, chase women, dream of better times and faraway places. Among them is the unnamed narrator, the kid just out of college, the would-be writer, who has never been with a woman. They call him "blondie," with a small "b" and they teach him about life.

The "gang" from the empanada stand come and go, pair up and break up, try to survive, quarrel and make up, but "blondie" only has eyes for Cathy Escudero, the fiery flamenco dancer, who never gives him a second glance. He spends every possible moment watching her rehearse, until the wealthy Aurelio from Uruguay comes on the scene and pushes him out of the picture. The young narrator pines for the beautiful dancer, writes, collects rejection slips, and keeps his manuscripts stacked on the floor of his tiny apartment.

So, will "blondie" ever get published? Will he get the girl? Any girl? And what will happen to the colorful losers of the empanada brotherhood? You'll have to read the book to find out. I promise, you'll love it.

Author Nichols writes simple, lucid prose, sprinkled with Argentine street argot and references to flamenco, that is fascinating and engaging. Somehow he creates a feeling of intimacy, from the very first page, so that you too become part of the gang, and you care what happens to each of them. What else can I say? A charming, sad, sweet memoir of a vanished time and place and a young man's coming of age. I recommend it highly. Reviewed by Louis N. Gruber

I read this as part of our book club selection, and it was further enhanced by a trip down to Buenos Aires at the same time.
Loved the eclectic characters who held court round the empanada stand - so sweet and confused as we all are in our youth. This is vintage John Nichols, and the author offers a peak into his his early years in NYC when he was trying to find his voice, but had yet to be published. Nothing startling or life changing in this tale, but I enjoyed it.