A Writer Like No Other

Uruguayan Writer Felisberto Hernández (1902-1964)

I have just begun reading Piano Stories by the late Uruguayan writer Felisberto Hernández. It is very clearly unlike anything else I have ever read. He was an author admired by Italo Calvino, Julio Cortázar, and Francine Prose. According to Italo Calvino:

Hernández’s most typical stories are those that are centered on a rather complicated mise-en-scène, a spectacular ritual that unfolds within the depths of an elegant house: a flooded patio in which lighted candles float; a little theatre of dolls large as real women striking enigmatic poses; a dark gallery in which one is supposed to recognize by touch objects that elicit associations of images and thoughts.

His translator, Luis Harss, provides some rather odd biographical details:

He married four times; was a great eater and raconteur at literary soirees; had a passion for fat women; loved to improvise on the piano in the styles of various classical composers; once toured Argentina with his own trio, other times with a flamboyantly bearded impresario called Venus González. He preferred to write in shuttered rooms or basements; suffered a life-long emotional dependence on his mother; was haunted by morbid vanity and a sense of failure; became ill-humored and reactionary in middle age; and died of leukemia, his body so bloated it had to be removed through the window of the funeral home in a box as large as a piano.

Gardyloo!

As I wrote yesterday’s blog post about proofreading computer transcriptions of two Merriam-Webster dictionaries, I remembered that one way I entertained myself in the process was collecting weird words. Three from the 7th Collegiate Dictionary were:

  • rotl. A unit of weight in the Middle East ranging from one to six pounds.
  • crwth. A Welsh stringed instrument.
  • cwm. Another Welsh vowelless wonder, meaning a steep-sided hollow at the head of a valley or on a mountain side.

Soon I started going farther afield:

  • medioxumous. Of or relating to an intermediate group of deities.
  • septemfluous. Flowing in seven streams. (Gosh, that’s a useful word.)
  • zax. A small axe used in roofing (or playing Scrabble).
  • triskaidekaphobia. Fear of the number thirteen.
  • gardyloo. In Scots, what people shouted outside their windows before emptying their bedpans in the street.
  • petrichor. The smell of rain.

That’s all I remember for now, but no doubt other examples will come to mind at a later point.