Hopscotch

There are at least three different ways to read Julio Cortazar's Hopscotch; the first is to read the first fifty-six chapters in sequence (until one reaches a line of stars signifying "everything after this can be ignored" at the end of Chapter 56). Doing so will give the reader a frustrating, choppy, occasionally dense, tedious, and unengaging experience. Unfortunately, following the author's instructions (laid out conveniently in a "Table of Instructions" before the rest of the text begins) results in the same experience, only longer. While the additional chapters do help to fill out some events that may be unclear upon a "normal" reading, (such as making the narrative a little more linear, as with Pola), or flesh out a backstory (Morelli/the old man), or add color with excerpts from referenced works/relevant passages/letters, the novel still has the same problems as with a linear reading -- that the happenings seem pointless. Producing a boring novel about expatriate bohemians in Paris is one thing, but a boring novel that the back cover blurb pitches as "the dazzling, free-wheeling account of [protagonist's] astonishing adventures" seems to be a little more difficult. (Not that I am opposed to the selection of flattering back cover blurbs. Far from it.) It's not the flouting of conventional narrative structure that bothers me about this novel -- it's that all the flouting of conventional narrative structure feels so pointless. While the pace picks up a little when the action returns to Argentina, it's not nearly enough to save this.