Rio de Janeiro - setting for the short stories in this collection
Rubem
Fonseca (1925-2020) was a literary writer par excellence who happened
to write in a way that appealed to millions of readers in his native
Brazil. Novels like High Art, Vast Emotions and Imperfect Thoughts, and Bufo & Spallanzani became bestsellers in his home country (I posted reviews of all three – check them out).
In The Taker and Other Stories,
our dynamic man of letters serves up fifteen scorching tales of urban
crime that have been described as chilling, gut-wrenching, ghastly, and
disturbing. To share a fuller taste of what a reader will encounter, I
will focus on one story that, for me, was particularly memorable.
Spoiler Alert: to do this short tale justice, I will analyze it from
beginning to end.
ANGELS OF THE MARQUEES
At Loose Ends -
Poor Paiva. Upon retirement, he planned to travel the world with his
dear wife. But, alas, Leila died of a sudden illness days before their
first trip. What to do? He's totally bored looking out at the ocean from
his penthouse balcony, and knows he's not the type of man to start
doing things like going to church, joining a club or even staying home
to read or watch films or sports. And since he and Leila never had
children, there are no grandchildren to visit. The upshot: Is he
healthy? Yes. Does he have plenty of money? Yes. Is he happy? No.
The
Wanderer – Just to get out of the penthouse, Paiva starts wandering
aimlessly through the Rio streets. Oh, my. For the first time, he sees
all the homeless women and men, especially men, lying on the sidewalks
and in the gutters. When he was working, he traveled from home to work
in a chauffeur-driven limousine, a world removed from the street. But
now he has become aware of the grim reality. “It was as if fate, which
had always protected him, were pointing out a new path, inviting him to
help those wretches whom destiny had so cruelly abandoned.” Paiva senses
what his new life might be.
Nighttime Noting - During one of
his nocturnal walks, under the marquee of a bank, Paiva spots a man and a
woman bending over one of the homeless bodies, as if attempting to
revive it. The duo then lifts the unfortunate wretch and carries him to a
small ambulance. After the ambulance drives away, Paiva stands there,
rooted to the spot. "Witnessing that gesture of charity had encouraged
him: something, however modest, was being done; someone cared about
those miserable creatures." My bet is Paiva was raised a Christian, and
this scene brought back memories of a Sunday school lesson.
True
Christians - Night after night, Paiva continues his walks, encountering
numerous homeless individuals and yearning for the appearance of the
"Angels of the Marquees" to lend a helping hand to one or two of these
unfortunate souls. Paiva desires nothing more than to contribute to this
organization, perhaps in some administrative capacity. Then, one night,
there they are — the same pair of altruists, lifting a body off the
sidewalk. Paiva approaches and expresses his willingness to assist,
asking for the name of their service or agency. They respond, “We're a
private organization. We want to keep people from dying abandoned in the
street. But we don't like publicity.” Adding a Christian touch, they
say, “Your right hand shouldn't know what your left hand is doing.”
Before the ambulance pulls away, Paiva requests their phone number and
address to pay their headquarters a visit. They reply, “Give us your
phone number, and we'll get in touch with you.”
True Christian
Wannabe - Poor Paiva anxiously waits for the call, but a week passes
with no response. He assumes the angels may have lost his number or are
simply too occupied with their altruistic work. Paiva finally resorts to
searching the streets at night and manages to spot them. Rushing up to
the pair, he confesses his desperation to hear from them, mentioning
that he almost ran an ad in the paper. The woman in the group admits she
lost his number. They write his number down again and promise to give
him a call soon.
Finding True Happiness - The very next day,
Paiva receives a call, and the angels instruct him to meet them under
the same bank marquee where they first met. Paiva is thrilled; he nearly
runs to the marquee and can barely express his gratitude when he hops
in next to the ambulance driver, and they head off. The van reaches its
destination, zooms through the open gate, and stops in a courtyard. They
get out, and the driver tells Paiva he'll show him their facilities,
starting with the infirmary. Paiva walks down a corridor accompanied by
two orderlies. When they arrive at the infirmary, Paiva is truly
impressed with the cleanliness of the place. Taking it all in, this
moment is the very first time Paiva has felt totally happy since his
wife, Leila, died."
The Twist - At the very instant of Paiva's great feeling of joy, the orderlies immobilize him, tie his hands, and
place him on a stretcher. “Surprised and frightened, Paiva could offer
no resistance. A needle was stuck into his arm.” Paiva is stripped and
taken into the operating room. One of the men dressed as a surgeon asks
what organs from this one. The other masked man says the corneas, for
sure, and probably the liver, kidneys, and lungs. Rubem Fonseca ends
with one of the masked men remarking, “We have to work fast. The rider's
waiting to deliver the orders.”
Coda - A ghastly tale, for
sure, and a tale that speaks to the economic conditions in a city like
Rio, a city with a razor sharp division between rich and poor. Paiva
comes to recognize the city leaves many men and women destitute and
homeless. Too bad he didn't pick up on the signs of what some of the
population will resort to in order to avoid being counted among the
destitute themselves.
Rubem Fonseca, 1925-2020
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