The Hive by Camilo José Cela
The Hive (La Colmena) is 1989 Nobel laureate Camilo José Cela's most famous work. Published first in 1951, it's set over three days in 1943, and uses 215 vignettes to describe picture more than 300 characters in Madrid, as their lives interweave and their paths cross.
Although Cela himself had fought on Franco's side during the Spanish Civil War – and actually went on to become a censor for the state at one point – censorship by the Catholic church-affiliated government meant that it was banned for years in the country because of its supposed immorality.
It’s not so much 'immoral' as 'amoral', as Cela presents us with an idea of people living in poverty or pretty dire financial straits, who will do pretty much anything to make a little money. This is certainly the case with several of the female characters, who prostitute themselves for cash – in one case, to buy medicine and food for her boyfriend, who has TB.
Combine the poverty with the politics of living in a police state – the fear of saying the 'wrong' thing and being arrested for it – and you get an essentially bleak picture.
Cela's prose is spare and sarcastic, and he conjures a convincing and lively picture of Madrid at the time.
But the book seems to dissolve toward the end, leaving specific strands as so obscure that I really didn't know what had happened. The trouble was, I couldn't tell whether or not I was supposed to know what had happened or whether it was supposed to be a mystery.
So, a good start, but it tapers off toward the end.
The Hive (La Colmena) is 1989 Nobel laureate Camilo José Cela's most famous work. Published first in 1951, it's set over three days in 1943, and uses 215 vignettes to describe picture more than 300 characters in Madrid, as their lives interweave and their paths cross.
Although Cela himself had fought on Franco's side during the Spanish Civil War – and actually went on to become a censor for the state at one point – censorship by the Catholic church-affiliated government meant that it was banned for years in the country because of its supposed immorality.
It’s not so much 'immoral' as 'amoral', as Cela presents us with an idea of people living in poverty or pretty dire financial straits, who will do pretty much anything to make a little money. This is certainly the case with several of the female characters, who prostitute themselves for cash – in one case, to buy medicine and food for her boyfriend, who has TB.
Combine the poverty with the politics of living in a police state – the fear of saying the 'wrong' thing and being arrested for it – and you get an essentially bleak picture.
Cela's prose is spare and sarcastic, and he conjures a convincing and lively picture of Madrid at the time.
But the book seems to dissolve toward the end, leaving specific strands as so obscure that I really didn't know what had happened. The trouble was, I couldn't tell whether or not I was supposed to know what had happened or whether it was supposed to be a mystery.
So, a good start, but it tapers off toward the end.