I knew I was in for a treat, but oh boy… Unfortunately there’s no translation into English, for now, but the title would be something like “Elephant’s Memory” (or not, I’m really not good at this). Lobo Antunes is a Portuguese psychiatrist and proliphic writer and I’m ashamed for never before having picked up any of his books. People have recommended me this one as a baptism, probably because it’s one of the shortest and it’s auto-bibliographical. You can tell immediately he’s such a freakishly good author, with such a deep and brutal insight that sometimes it hurt to read some passages. It’s mostly about a loss he suffered and the perspective it gave him (and gives anyone really) on his daily life and the way he lives it through memories. I won’t come back to this author soon enough, but I do need some recovery time.
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