Hitchcock blondes

For most people, the archetypal sexy actress is Marilyn Monroe. Although she had her own personal issues, she typically played a naive and coquettish young woman. Her attractiveness certainly has not dated, granted. Yet what she lacks is a complex personality to boot. You certainly get that with Hitchcock blondes who by contrast are neurotic, obsessive and emotionally troubled.

Most would see these characters as narrative devices. This artificiality only makes them more desirable. The hysterical woman is a character that has recurred in literature for a long time. Madness, however, is consummately attractive. It promises the kind of catharsis you find in tragedy, the kind of intense relationship you thought was only confined to the realm of fiction. The teacher-student or older-younger relationship entails power-submission. All these relationship suggest illicitness. They are a dark room full of monsters only you have a key to. (Forgive the trite metaphor.) Perhaps it only exists in the realm of desire and onanism. Once you engaged in such a relationship it might prove too much to bear. Disappointingly, it could prove tedious. Nonetheless, in literature and film, the hysterical/neurotic woman is what centres the obsessions of the (typically male) protagonist. For all these reasons, I find Hitchcock blondes attractive.

The character Scottie initially finds the Madeleine in Vertigo attractive because she is one big riddle. Her story, of her being a reincarnation of a portrait subject in the 19th century, piques his interest. He stalks her, notices her unusual routine and he in effect repeats her unusual behaviour. This contributes to his own eventual breakdown. She is one bid riddle he is intent on solving. Her eventual death brings this to a close and all he has left is a nebulous puzzle he cannot solve. His fear of heights prevents him from saving her from her suicide. He suffers a breakdown.

The woman here is positioned as an anti-feminist object of desire. Scottie is fixated on her. She does not have an identity. (Slavoj Zizek mentioned that it is implicit in the film that Scottie undresses her whilst unconscious.) Once Madeleine passes on, he finds another woman who bears an uncanny resemblance. He forces her to dye her hair blonde and to wear Madeleine's clothing. He is intent on moulding this woman to his liking. He projects onto her Madeleine's non-defined identity. Following this, they must repeat the same routines and visit the same locations.

Vertigo

In the critically panned Marnie, the central protagonist is terrified of men. (This is explained by a terribly disappointing and predictable ending where she witnessed her prostitute mother murder a client.) She is pursued by a wealthy man who tries to win her over. They get married, but she constantly refuses her body. On their honeymoon, she is effectively raped by him.

Controversially perhaps, the fractured relationship is resumed. Marnie overcomes her childhood trauma and we assume that what entails is a healthy and reciprocal relationship. Still, she is constantly harangued by her husband who is more excited by the prospect of carnal desires than her conflicted personality. Her refusal to give consent positions her as an unattainable object of desire he has to work his outmost to dominate.

These two films are examples of more psychologically-driven films. In plenty other Hitchcock films, the blonde is an agent of suspense and cliffhanger thrills. It cannot be denied that this is an often sexist stereotyping of women. Still, these women are often intelligent and emotionally complex. They do not attractive the male protagonists because they are physically alluring. They are attractive because their complex personalities promise a desire which is ultimately thwarted.

Thoughts on music consumption

This is the first of a series of videos I recorded over the summer.

My favourite films of the year, 2013

I regret that I have not updated this blog much of late. Although I have several ideas in store, I simply have not found the time. Curse you, dissertation! And I haven't even started writing you yet!

In the previous two years, I selected my favourite three films released theatrically in the UK at the time. Last year there were a lot of enchanting corkers I did not write about. So this year I have decided to compile a list of the top ten films released this year. Why would I need to write just about three films? Is this an austerity blog? No, I hope not! Self-imposing constraints like that is silly and will get us nowhere!

I was hoping of writing in great length about each film, though I think that I will keep it as concise as possible. Concision is elegant.

The list will start with the TENTH film and move down to the FIRST film. That will keep you on your toes.

There are no blockbusters here, sadly. I prefer arty films, it seems. Chances are that you will not have seen any of the films listed below. If that is the case, do not feel ashamed. If anything, I should feel ashamed of myself for going to the local arthouse every weekend when you, dear reader, dutifully chase birds.

10: Pussy Riot: A Punk Prayer (Documentary) (Mike Lerner and Maxim Pozdorovkin, Russia/UK)

Totalitarianism is now at an outmoded concept. The only true totalitarian society today would be North Korea. What we do have now is authoritarianism and illiberal forms of democracy. Russia has both right now.

Pussy Riot are a feminist punk band who performed in a Russian cathedral. The song they sang had the lyric 'God shit.' They were sentenced to two years in prison for inciting religious hatred. This documentary has fly-on-the-wall material of their court case, talking heads and footage of Pussy Riot up to shenanigans.

Their prison sentence has intensified Russia's problems with orthodox religion, its shady corruption and its treatment of homosexuals and minorites. It has also put further strain on its leading autocrat Putin. This is a enthralling documentary which has a lot to reveal about the country on a political and social level as well as being a case study of the provocative ladies.

9. To the Wonder (Terrence Malick, USA)

Semantically, this is quite probably a turkey. It has nothing revealing nor incisive to say. In fact, it is riddled with epigrams about love that are quite frankly stomach turning.

But, on a purely visual level, this is one of the best experiences I have ever had in a cinema. Each scene is a little masterpiece in its own right. I was captivated by Malick's masterful shots of cathedrals, ebbing tides and meadows. I will say that again: it is masterful.

This is Malick's sixth film and it has echoes of Tarkovksy's Nostalghia. Beautiful to watch, but marred by its own towering ego.

Why should film be strictly narrative, anyway? Can't we go to the cinema and be in awe of the technical flair of directors like Malick?

8. The Gatekeepers (Documentary) (Dror Moreh, Israel)

This is a cinematic coup. Six of the former heads of Israel's security service are interviewed at length. There are plenty of revelations about the heinous ways in which the Palestinians have been repressed.

In one startling instance, one of the older former heads mentioned that it was 'great' that Hamas started because they started to have a lot of work in hand. All the agents, though guarded at times, are thoughtful and articulate.

On many instances they seem to agree that their methods are brutal and that what Israel has done is unjust. They even agree that a two-state solution should be on the cards. Shouldn't heads of state take notice?

7. In the Fog (Sergei Loznista, Russia)

This is a brilliant, brooding, atmospheric film. It is set in the second world war in a Nazi occupied sector of Russia. It follows the ways in which Russian peasants help the SS and their ensuing ignominy in the local town. At times elliptical, it also has the quality of great Russian literature - slow, introspective and bloody.

6. Museum Hours (Jem Cohen, USA/Austria)

Avan-Garde filmmaking is often nothing more than a cold intellectual exercise. This is why this films is such a gem in that it is avant-garde filmmaking which is beautiful to watch and has emotional resonance.

It follows an unlikely friendship the guard of a museum strikes with a Canadian tourist in Vienna. The film follows the guard's lifestyle of quietly contemplating the paintings on display and observing the expressions of the visitors. It is full of insights on the masterpieces.

What I think is the greatest achievement of the film is the way Cohen shoots Vienna. Litter and debris is reconfigured as static paintings. (Cohen's filmography consists of museum exhibitions and this is first feature film.)

5. NO (Pablo Larraín, Chile)

Pablo Larraín's film has made quite a big impact internationally. This is surprising in that it is about a very specific moment in Chilean history: the advertising campaign for the NO bid in the 1988 referendum.

The film is shot in the 80s video, so it has the same look of the time. The cast includes the actual politicians of the campaign (alongsde Gael Garcia Bernal, of course), again lending it a touch of authenticity.

It is also charged with a lot of humour. The scenes with Pinochet are particularly funny, because what he says is so ridiculous.

The film is very ironic in the way it posits its argument. Yes, Pinochet is deposed, but he is deposed with his own language. The NO campaign wins with cheery coca-cola styled ads. Once democracy is installed the leader of the campaign is shown making more innocent TV adverts. Although Chile has democracy, it continues to clutch to free markets.

4. The Act of Killing (Documentary) (Jossen Oppenheimer, International Co-Production)

500,000 people were killed in three days in the Indonesian genocide of 1965. 'Gangs' were assigned this gruesome task. This film follows them now and asks them to recreate their murders (play-acting, of course). This results in some disconcerting, and at times downright strange, viewing.

The film is interested more in spectacle than in examination - there is no historical context of the genocide, for instance - but it is one of the most striking and eye-opening films of recent times. It is also an interesting film on the nature of guilt. Many are unrepentant, though one is haunted by nightmares. In one bizarre dream sequence, the gangster is given a 'medal' from the ghosts of the civilians he murdered.

3. Beyond the Hills (Cristian Mingiu, Rumania)

In this film, we delve into the lives of a convent of orthodox nuns. A girl who visits the convent becomes is accused of witchcraft and conflict soon arises. The convent is apart from society, aligned to values which are almost medieval. They are apart from the contemporary society, in a microcosm. Their well-meaning pious behaviour ultimately results in a terrible tragedy. A masterful drama.

2. The Selfish Giant (Clio Barnard, UK)

This film is mooted to have started a new wave of British filmmaking. Very, very exciting stuff. It is in the vein of British social realism, like Ken Loach. The performances of the two adolescent boys are brilliant. Two working class kids from the midlands start trading scrap metal for cash and become embroiled in illegal activity. Although it is a realist film, it also imbued with lyrical shots. I also liked the way in which working class people are depicted for who they are. A very moving, emotional film. I was thunderstruck for the remainder of the day.

1. The Great Beauty (Paolo Sorrentino, Italy)

I am tired of writing now, so I copied and pasted this chunk of writing about this film from my Facebook. Hence the dodgy font.

The film, in terms of its technique, is a composite of two lauded filmmakers: Terrence Malick and Frederico Fellini (I love the former, loathe the latter). Yet, in many respects, makes up for what those directors lack.
It is ridden with the kind of tracking shots Malick loves to shoot (which often become clichéd). It deals with a whole class of people who are, ultimately, completely vacuous and decadent - the literary bohemia (and here we see copious allusions to the films of Fellini). And, whilst it has this grandeur of Malick (there are several poetic epigrams and a lot of reflection), and the flaneur milieu of Fellini, it treats the characters very ironically. As it happens, the film is very funny (in a very absurd, irreverent way).

Mind you, when you come out of it, you think - what's his thesis? What is he getting at? I don't think he is getting at anything. The film is strewn with ambiguity. You could tease out comments on their decadence, on literary pretension, on ageing, on lost love, on Berlusconi's Italy, though I think that would be superfluous. It could also do with more narrative flair (it sometimes becomes needlessly elliptical). Fuck all that, though - you should see it!

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2012
2011

Apologists for genocide

Primo Levi, a Holocaust survivor and testimonial writer, found it urgent to raise awareness of the horrors he had witnessed. It pained him to hear of holocaust revisionists and deniers. If we forget about the lessons of history, the unthinkable can happen again. If we forget about tyrants such as Hitler and Stalin, if we start with a tabula rasa, their crimes will be repeated.

Our times are particularly perilous in that we are undergoing socio-economic circumstances similar to the 1920s. Whilst Western Europe will not have a repeat of these horrors - the lessons of the Holocaust are deeply entrenched - Eastern Europe is taking a scary turn in that direction. With high unemployment, extreme ideologies seem to people to be the ideal solvent to their ills. The third biggest political party in Hungary stated that all the Jews in Hungary must be counted. The Golden Dawn in Greece is also terrorising racial minorities and capturing the imagination of younger voters.

In a recent documentary about the Indonesian genocide of 1965, The Act of Killing, we see the perpetrators several years hence. 500,000 people were killed within three days. The Western media portrayed the killings as a decisive victory over communism during the cold war. The gang members who carried out the crimes now live with equanimity. When asked about their crimes, they seem vindictive. In one startling scene, when asked if the communists might want revenge, one member replies along the lines of 'Well, we will just crush their skulls and they will be quiet.' The whole room lights up, the chat show host smirks and everyone claps with fervor.

The Act of Killing

What is interesting about this scene - and representative of these apologists - is that communists are not vilified for their political beliefs. They are vilified for being 'the other,' 'the parasite,' 'the enemy.' The annihilation of this tribe or ethnic group guarantees the realisation of a political agenda. In the case of Nazi Germany, the annihilation of the Jews would create an 'Aryan' society and a Superman. In the case of Indonesia and Chile, the annihilation of the 'communists' would segue way into a free market capitalist society.

In the case of Chile, thousands of people were detained, tortured and killed. Of course, the right have ceaselessly tried to justify their actions. They even fabricated a story, which was believed for decades, called 'Plan Z.' The right claimed that Allende planned self-coup to impose a marxist government. Such a plan never existed. This was a psychological game forged by the military to justify their crimes against humanity.

Chile, September 11 1973

What often happens is that the oppressors continue to prosper and the oppressed continue to suffer. In Chile, to be a 'Pinochetista' is completely uncontroversial. I know several people who have no qualms with being so. But, of course, if you support a cause, you support all the killings, tortures and crimes that cause entails. In effect, you are an apologist for genocide. These people are completely unrepentant and lead comfortable lives.

The trial of Pinochet was interesting in that it was the first time a war criminal had been brought to trial by an international jury. Why should it solely be an internal affair? If international law were curtailed, it would set a precedent and many more criminals would be trialed.

I have seen many comments stating 'Both Allende and Pinochet are a disgrace - let's forget about it and move on.' First of all, that is deeply disrepectful to the victims. Secondly - I'll drill in this point for the umpteenth time - history rarely repeats itself. This is because genocides are remembered. Germany is now a pluralist society, deeply mindful about its attitude. However grotesque the past may be, it must be remembered. The apologists who skew it must be brought to account.

What is 'Cosmopolitan Literature'?

'Cosmopolitan Literature' is, I hope, my own coinage. I will explain what I mean by it later on. First of all, I will make a couple of distinctions.

'World Literature' is a marketing term used to denote foreign writers. These are rigid categories and foreign writers are mutually exclusive from local ones. It is largely a promotional term for writers overseas. Coined by Goethe in the 18th century, it is pretty much an out-dated term used at a time when countries were beginning to unify and when nationalism was rife. The term 'world' is problematic since it casts foreign writers as somehow 'other.' Anglophone writers are beyond categorisation, which seems absurd. A very Euro-centric category which has overtones of imperialism.

'Comparative Literature' is an academic discipline used to analyse linguistic differences between writers from different countries, in addition to the usual critical perspectives from an English course. A useful discipline which not only broadens out from national barries but also draws from several other disciplines not commonly associated with literature. 

So what is 'Cosmopolitan Literature' and how does it differ from the aforementioned categories. Cosmopolitan Literature holds that national borders are superflous and that there is a universal consciousness we all experience. This consciousness should be portrayed in literature, instead of relying on a parochial attitude of just representing the cultural mores of one's local society. It holds that literary styles developed from certain cultures can be freely adapted from others. A truly successful 'cosmopolitan' writer is one whom you cannot tie to a specific national canon. 

Who eludes this category? Since when is Jorge Luis Borges Argentinean, for instance? The pampas appear in several stories, but his writing is more European than anything else. Although Conrad is called English because he wrote in the language, he wrote a novel set in Russia and novels like Nostromo are set abroad and populated by people from different nationalities. Is Roberto Bolano Chilean or Mexican or Spanish? The stamp of a true cosmopolitan writer is that he defies being placed in a cultural pigeonhole. This is because he avoids the style characterised by his local school and because he engages with different cultures.

The tactical fundamentalist

Marcelo Bielsa

Although I am not a very acute observer of football, when a passing side plays well I find it very aesthetically pleasing. I like to watch teams which are attacking and positive. And they do not get any more attacking and positive than Marcelo Bielsa.

When a Bielsa side plays at maximum capacity, it puts teams like Barcelona and Spain to shame. I sometimes find myself yawning when I watch that type of tiki-taka football. Bielsa's teams are well-drilled and pass the ball well, but it is ratcheted up to 500 miles per hour. Every single player presses the opposition and aims to retrieve the ball. His sides play with three defenders and even their role is offensive. The objective is to score more goals than the opposition, regardless of who the opponent is. Bielsa has his own philosophy and it will never be revised. You might call it inflexible and predictable, but for football purists it is a manna from heaven. Even if you call it reckless, you can't argue that it also gets results.

His eccentricities only make him more endearing. With a pair of gold-rimmed glasses dangling from the holders, he resembles a crochety professor or your favourite uncle. He crouches on the manager's dug-out, intently peering out onto the pitch. He trudges through the dug-out, endlessly analysing the ways he can win the game. Indeed, he is such an astute tactician that he can change the course of the match through a couple of substitutions.

Bielsa is from a football-mad town in Argentina called Rosario. The two teams are either Rosario Central and Newell's Old Boys. His father was a Rosario Central and Bielsa, being a contrarian, decided to ardently support Newell's.

His obsessive nature already flowered in early childhood. During one of several military dictatorships in Argentina, the police ordered a group of kids to stop playing a obstructive game of football in the street. They took his ball away. Bielsa stated that if the ball went, he went. He was arrested and his ball eventually returned, because he simply would not stop carping on about it. As we shall see, Bielsa is a very principled man.

After a brief playing career in Newell's, he took over the club as manager and led them to a championship trophy. He even took them to the final of the Copa Libertadores (the equivalent of the Champion's League). He has since acquired a legendary status at the club; one of the stadium's stands is named after him. Only a couple of years ago, the fans were being called upon to vote for a new president and Bielsa flew in and was the first person in the cue to vote.

His career is tainted by one regrettable episode, as Argentina manager the 2002 world cup. It is clear that he 'over did' the preparations. He assiduously overtrained the squad and they literally could only limp onto the pitch. Argentina crashed out in the first round after heading into the tournament as hot favourites.

He remains a divisive figure in Argentina to this day, though he acquired a God-like status in Chile after taking over the reins of the national team. It was footballing renaissance. He also instilled a type of high-pressing game that has now become emblematic of all Chilean football. When he was their manager, he even lived in a little hut in the stadium's ground. Of course, he was accompanied by his encyclopedic library of football videos, which he methodically analyses.

A socialist in his politics, Bielsa only communicates to the media through press conferences. He insists on answering every single question from every media outlet. His answers tend to be long-winded and this means that the conferences drag on for several hours. Indeed, he has stated that 'Every section of the media should get the same attention from me, from the capital's most prominent TV channel to the smallest newspaper in the provinces.'

True to his principles, Bielsa left Chile after some disgusting political manoeuvring. The president, Sebastián Pinera, decided that he simply must go. Bielsa stated that he would leave if his contractor was replaced, Harold-Mayne Nichols. He followed through on this threat when Pinera installed a different candidate.

Later, he moved to the quirky club Athletic Bilbao. As he was now playing European football, I managed to see two of their games.

In the first game, against Real Zaragoza, they managed to win with ten men. The squad had already grasped his methods - they can take a while to sink in - and were climbing up the table. My dad and I even tracked his hotel, but he didn't appear to be inside and it appeared to be a fenced private residence. It could be called stalking, but we were assured that he was receptive to visitors!

The second game was the best football match I have ever been to in my life. It was a Europa Cup tie between Bilbao and Manchester United, in Manchester. Bilbao swept Manchester aside with ease. It was a footballing masterclass. Man Untd. were left very beleaguered.

His methods have also forged a generation of acolytes. Gerardo Martino, the current manager of Barcelona, is an avowed disciple. So is Mauricio Pochetinno, manager of Southampton. And the current manager of Chile, Jorge Sampaoli. All these managers have made their way through Newell's Old Boys youth system. Pepe Guardiola has expressed his admiration, citing him as the best manager alive.

Rigid, obsessive, even brazen, Bielsa makes all of his players believe firmly in his methodology. He is a fundamentalist who never alters his 3-3-1-3 formation. On one occasion the entire Argentinean squad complained that they should play with four defenders instead. Bielsa said, 'Very well, we shall have a vote.' The entire team voted for four defender. 'Ok, then, the team has spoken. We will play with three defenders.'

Latin-American literature

Before the Second World War, Latin-American writers were scarce even in their homelands. Cheap paperbacks of the latest European novels abounded in book stores. The only local talent that was read widely was Roberto Arlt - his novels were even sold in kiosks. His novels dealt with the seedy side-streets, ruffians, lunatics and mobs of Buenos Aires.

Apart from the odd elite here and there, there was no modernist movement as such. Poets like Vicente Huidobro hastened to Paris and and became fervid presence in Parisian coffee houses. Peruvian poet Cesar Vallejo wrote densely experimental verse, but then he led a tragically isolated life.

Where was there a literature which spoke about nationhood? Where was there a literature which wore its cultural idiosyncrasy on its sleeve? Pablo Neruda wrote the epic Canto General which, among other things, lamented the extinction of indigent tribes. Yet as a whole there was no collective Latin-American 'voice.'

Latin-America has never been a homogeneous culture. Indigenous tribes have interbred with colours and creeds and immigrants have always deluged its shores. Anyone can be a 'Latin-American.' I, for one, having grown up in Chile, consider myself as such. If it ever were to summon up a 'voice,' it would be bound to reflect this cosmopolitanism and diversity.

The European influences of Joyce, Proust, Woolf etc. soon crept in and gelled with the local folklore. Stream of consciousness, unattributed dialogue and multiple perspectives were appropriated by local writers and given a new slant.

Jorge Luis Borges had been writing poetry and prose unassumingly since the 1920s. He was part of the movement 'Ultraism,' which aimed to oppose the prevalence of European modernism and to forge a new voice. Metaphors ought to be kept at a bare minimum, it should be freed of baggy adjectives and still maintain a vestige of ambiguity.

Borges was a very well-read man, deeply familiar with classical literature. He drew from his vast pool of knowledge to form a strange hybrid landscape. He wrote apocryphal reviews and biographies. He wrote about strange creatures. His stories were very prismatic; common motifs included mirrors, parallel worlds, recurring dreams and labyrinths. His deeply surprising stories seemed to take place in a completely different world and lay the groundwork for future writers.

Yet the stories of Borges defied categorisation. You would also be hard-pressed to ascribe him a nationality. Is his fiction Argentinean or is it European?

 

Borges

Later novelists would suffuse this veneer of unreality with local dialect and colloquialisms. Juan Rulfo's Pedro Páramo is an astonishing novel. It appropriates modernist techniques, it is a non-linear narrative which rotates around multiple voices, yet it is written in Mexican dialect. All the characters in the novel are dead and the novel is comprised by their reveries and murmuring voices. It details the decline of an antiquated Mexican rural town and the eponymous characters who wrought its end.

A writer who held a strong influence, but remains obscure to the Anglophone world, was Juan Carlos Onetti. His style has its own beauty and is characterised by its pessimistic somnolent tone. His novels could be called existentialist, but they still have an air of the unreal to them. Most of his novels take place in the mythical 'Santa María,' such as A Brief Life.  A cross between Buenos Aires and Montevideo, it is a mythical land the character Brausen entertains himself with in the form of a screenplay. As he becomes more and more worn down by the reality surrounding him, he eventually immerses himself into this alternate world. Populated by several eccentrics, Santa María would become the setting for most of his later novels. When Uruguay was struck by a coup, Onetti was surprisingly detained. Released after a petition made by several eminent writers, Onetti soberly had Santa María destroyed in Dejemos hablar al viento. (Though it resurfaced as a wasteland in later novels.)

Onneti

All this ultimately culminated in what was termed 'El Boom.' This phenomenon boosted the sales of writers like Rulfo and Onetti. It also popularised Latin-American literature worldwide. The four main exponents were Gabriel García Marques, Mario Vargas Llosa, Julio Córtazar and Carlos Fuentes.

I really can't stand Marquez! His magic realism strikes me as a phony gimmick. I find the writing style monotonous and repetitive. I have tried reading One Hundred Years of Solitude twice and have given up on both occasions. (I also tend to persevere whenever I encounter a cumbersome book!)

Mario Vargas Llosa is a vulpine, versatile writer. He has written about many different periods in Latin-American history and has deft writing style. He has written with panache about tyrants and abuses of power. His writing is very political. Indeed, he run for the Peruvian presidency under the centre-right ticket.

Cortázar is a mixed bag. His stories are brilliant, though I think that his novels have dated horribly. Although Hopscotch has its moments, it is riddled with 1960s cant and follows a group of Bohemians having meandering pseudo-intellectual discussions. His stories have dated far better. They are characterised by their absurdity and deadpan surrealism. Cortázar spoke about 'fissures' - cracks in reality one serependitously chances upon. His best stories rank among my favourites.

Other writers I have not mentioned include Antonio Di Benedetto and José Donoso. The former writes existentialist literature akin to Camus and Sartre, but it is set in the provinces of Buenos Aires. Donoso is a marvellous writer and his brand of magical realism - evidenced in his bizarre tour de force The Obscene Bird of Night - is far more to my liking than the Marquez variety.

Latin-American literature has sparked another resurgence of late. Granta published an issue devoted to a 'second boom.' Writers are generally moving toward realism and becoming ever more self-reflexive. The apotheosis of this is the Chilean writer Roberto Bolano, whose tomes The Savage Detectives and 2666 have earned him numerous caveats.