this is as much about the dream of creating a literature as it as about the dream of overthrowing a fascist regime.
As always, these two concepts are inextricably intertwined for Bolano.
They take on various levels of political and personal resonance, with varying degrees of abstractness: All I had was a book, which I carried in my tiny backpack. At once, while I was walking, the book started to burn. It was getting light out and hardly any cars passed. When I chucked my scorched backpack into a ditch my back was stinging as if I had wings.
There was one activity Bolao enjoyed more than writing poetry: reading.
This is evident in Tres, where the ghosts of literatures reside: we encounter palimpsests and remembrances of Borges and Cortazar, odes and dreams to Perec and Baudelaire, a style infused with the Symbolistes filtered through the Beat Generation yet departing from both.
Hugo Bowne-anderson is a freelance writer.