Alfonso - Review / Bazzett

February 27, 2014


Felix Calvino, born in Spain, emigrated to Australia in the sixties where, according to his bio note, he worked for many years in the travel, restaurant and wine industry. He did not attend college until the late 1990s when he studied Spanish and English at the University of Melbourne and began writing. In 2007 he published his first book, a story collection, A HATFUL OF CHERRIES. As of this moment (February 2014) I'm not sure if Felix Calvino's ALFONSO is even available for sale in the United States, but I hope it will be very soon. Because I can't remember enjoying a first novel (a novella really, at just 117 pages) this much in a very long time.

ALFONSO is a deceptively simple story of the life of an immigrant worker, transplanted from his native Galicia in Spain, to Sydney, Australia in the early sixties. Having grown up desperately poor in Franco's Spain, left fatherless by that country's Civil War, Alfonso (there are no last names in the story) is fortunate enough to be apprenticed to a wise old woodworker/carpenter from the age of twelve. Several years later, armed with a skilled trade, an inbred sense of right and wrong, and a strong work ethic, the young man bids farewell to his mother and brother, and sets off for Australia. There he finds regular work with a Sydney construction firm, lives very frugally, saves his money and dreams of a house and family. He takes night courses to learn English and mixes shyly at the local Spanish Club, but fails to find the love he is looking for, feeling torn between the old ways of Spain and those of his newly adopted country, of which a friend says, "Australia had no soul, only overtime, beer, and poker machines."

But Alfonso perseveres in pursuing his dream, buys a ruined row house which he repairs and restores over a three-year period, as he watches his friends and co-workers begin to marry and start families - the part of his dream which comes harder. He listens to other friends complain about Australian women and struggles to slough off the Spanish idea of marriage in which the man must always be dominant and the woman submissive, and engages in a cautious and almost fearful chase-and-retreat courtship of Nancy, a strong young Australian woman. The story culminates with an extremely satisfying and exquisitely crafted scene suggesting rebirth and new beginnings.

Alfonso is a wonderfully imagined and fully realized character that will resonate with readers for a long time. I loved this book! Highly recommended.  )
   TimBazzett | Feb 26, 2014 | 


Review of Australian Fiction.

February 27, 2014

Alfonso - Review / Harp


February 15, 2014


1362506

Grady Harp's review 




Cultural Heritage and Miscegenation

Félix Calvino knows the immigrant experience as well as anyone writing. His newest novel, ALFONSO, not only substantiates that his book of short stories, A HATFUL OF CHERRIES, suggested the arrival of an important new voice on the literary scene, it also proves that his brief ideas about finding one’s place in a new country can and have been successfully developed into a full fledged novel.
Calvino was born in Galicia and spent his childhood on a farm not unlike that of his main character the title. Under the reign of General Franco, Calvino fled to England to study and work and eventually migrated to Australia where he currently lives and writes his magical prose. And it is with that insight that Calvino writes about Alfonso, a Spaniard who has immigrated to Australia (Sydney) via stopovers in England and other entertainingly at times hilarious and at other times frightening places. Once in Australia he must learn a new language, work at any job available to immigrants whose language skills of the new home are nascent, make friends with both other people who are form Spain as immigrants and form other countries: Australia is as much a melting pot a s the USA!

But Alfonso is determined, moves form his meager ‘bed sitter’ to purchase a house that needs more than cosmetic repairs, discovers the behavior patterns of neighbors not used to immigrant status and cultures and customs, continues to seek the woman whom he can share his life, meets his dream, Nancy, who is Australian and takes trips to Europe, placing what Alfonso perceives is already an inherent distance between their lives. How Alfonso adjusts during the years in which this novel takes place (1962 to 1971) defines so much more about the immigrant experience and the effects of the Vietnam War and other world events on our transplanted Spanish Australian that many history books piled atop each other could.
Félix Calvino’s voice may be a gentle and quiet one, but it is all the more powerful for the caring way he imparts his story. He has created such poignant phrases as ‘Divorces and funerals are wives’ ultimate weddings’, but to give the reader a sample of his rather astonishingly vivid method of approaching his subject the following extract is a fine one to study:

‘The four walls he had washed and painted twice as a gesture of friendship would have captured, as a mirror would, his frustration at trying to sew on a button, or trying not to scorch a new shirt; his clumsy attempts at cooking dinner with half of the ingredients missing until he trained himself to write a shopping list before going shopping; his relentless learning and relearning of English words; his chores of washing, cleaning, daily bed-making, and weekly changing of the bed sheets. These same walls would have recorded his loneliness in daytime and sadness always at night. The narrow wardrobe, the Triumph stove, the couch, two wooden chairs, and the aluminum table with the green Formica top would have watched his character crossing from youth to man, although he could not identify the exact turning point. Perhaps the pieces came together like a jigsaw. He remembered feeling proud of doing his job well, of having the first thousand-dollar balance stamped in his ANZ Bank savings book. Above all, he had been deeply thankful for having escaped poverty, for being in control of his life, and for how good a life he had. And there was the vague beginning, and understanding, of the forming of his two selves – one made of past memories, the other of new dreams. Dreams had been good companions in the village and they remained so in Australia. Three of them had crystallized into purpose: the satisfactory command of the English language, the owning of a house, and the companionship of a woman. The first two were going well, he thought.’
This extraction from his novel, not unlike his short stories, shows the power in this writer’s mind and hands. He has arrived.

Grady Harp

Alfonso - Review I Powell

February 13, 2014

Alfonso is a story of a spiritual struggle within an immigrant’s soul. As an outsider, Alfonso labors to fit in and embrace his new life in a new world – Australia – only to find himself succumbing to dark undertows of insult, isolation, and estrangement. Though he strives to cope with these dangerous forces, the only language he knows with which to confront them is a pictorial one, the duende-infused images of his boyhood Galacian village: shadowy forests and dark pines, village girls with eyes the colour of chestnuts, mysterious croaking of black frogs, poison kisses of witches, crows whose mere presence means death. Though Alfonso’s newfound mastery of English lends him an instrument of accommodation and a facile veneer of acceptability, the deep grammar of his imaginal tongue threatens to undermine all the new values to which he aspires.


James N. Powell


Book Launch

February 8, 2014


Dear Friends,

David Malouf to launch Alfonso
Thursday, February 20 at 6:00pm

I look forward to seeing you there.
My best wishes,

Félix