This is not a short book. It has 664 pages full of jumps, digressions, characters, dialogues, absurd situations and historical references. And, even so, it is not heavy to read. I think it is a brave bet by the publisher La segunda perifèria , which has decided to publish it in Catalan with a translation by Pau Vidal that makes for a very good read.
It all begins with a totally absurd assignment: we are in the Republic of Salò in 1944, and the soldier Cesco Magetti receives the order to make a map of… the railway network of Mexico. As it is. From this premise, the story unfolds as a kind of narrative and political puzzle that combines delirium, social criticism and a scathing look at the bureaucracy and absurdity of certain power structures.
The protagonist, Magetti, is a young soldier who has a toothache and finds himself trapped in a chain of absurd orders that no one questions. But the book is not limited to the story of this boy. Soon a whole series of characters enter the scene, each with their own voice, their own style, and often with their own particular madness. The result is a choral novel full of picaresque and historical references that goes back and forth in time and space to create a kind of very well-woven narrative tapestry.
There are surreal scenes that function as little fables about human nature and the mechanisms of power: a factory that produces colors that affect people's moods, an office building where it is impossible not to get lost (a clear enough metaphor for the bureaucratic system it portrays) or an episode with a crossword puzzle that the translator had to solve in an almost artisanal way.
There are also surprises that made me smile, such as a character named Carme who is dedicated to translating Eiximenis into Italian. And there are also little pills of humor that appear in the darkest or most reflective moments. Because yes: among so much digression, there is also space for moments of lucidity, of criticism of blind obedience, of the structures that perpetuate mediocrity, of fascism in substance and form.
As for the translation, I have to say that Pau Vidal has done a spectacular job, both in terms of length and a series of complicated elements that range from fragments in which the characters speak in dialects or linguistic variants different from the standard to things as intricate as the translation/adaptation of some crossword puzzles. I applaud with my ears!
On the publisher's website, they define Ferrocarrils de México as a feast for readers and as a "tentacle novel." And that's a very good way to define it: there is a central body, but the subplots extend like tentacles and generate small stories, voices that appear and disappear, secondary plots that suddenly become protagonists. The book takes time, but it's well worth the effort, as long as you let yourself be carried away by Griffi's narrative.
In short: if you want to lose yourself in an extensive read, with many layers and a certain playful spirit, Ferrocarrils de México is an excellent proposition. Ideal for readers who want to be surprised, with a taste for satire and a certain tolerance for narrative debauchery.
