Published: 2009 (Spain, Saymon Ediciones)
Genre: Humorous Fiction \/ Dark Satire
Series: \u2013<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In an age dominated by intense health consciousness, strict public bans, and graphic warning labels on cigarette packs, Mr Amiel\u2019s book looks like a cloud of forbidden smoke in a pristine, non-smoking lounge. It is crucial to understand right from the title that this book is not a medical text, a conspiracy theory, or a literal defence of tobacco use or smoking. Instead, it is a razor-sharp, politically incorrect farce that targets modern societal anxieties, bureaucratic overreach, and human stubbornness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Premise: Humour in the Forbidden Pleasure<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n The narrative operates within a world steeped in black humour, where smokers have increasingly been driven underground, both metaphorically and literally. By dedicating the text to smokers of \u201cthis world and the next,\u201d Vicente Amiel frames smoking not just as a habit, but as a bizarre human condition that bridges life, death, and the afterlife. The story follows Santiago, an old-school executive and unrepentant chain-smoker, over the course of one spectacularly chaotic day. His single-minded pursuit of a nicotine fix snowballs into a series of absurd catastrophes, resulting in the accidental destruction of his marriage and a string of escalating public disturbances. The author uses the premise not to defend smoking itself, but to mock the zealotry of contemporary wellness culture and the bureaucratic policing of personal habits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Style and Rhythm: The Spirit of a Gamberro<\/em><\/strong> (the Spanish term for a rascal or prankster)<\/p>\n\n\n\n The prose is mischievous, fast-paced, and deeply cynical, written with a witty, conversational cadence, and using the taboo of smoking to peel back the layers of hypocrisy in contemporary society. This is how modern culture replaces old moral structures with strict wellness mandates, suggesting that humanity\u2019s vices often reveal more about our true nature than our virtues do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The narrative voice is deeply embedded in the grand Spanish tradition of the esperpento,<\/em> the literary style that deliberately distorts reality to highlight its inherent contradictions and absurdities. The rhythm of the book is breakneck and claustrophobic: it operates like a classic farce; each chapter escalates the stakes, piling up complications before the protagonist can recover from the last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Verdict<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Fumar puede no matar<\/em> is a fiercely funny, unapologetic satire that succeeds because it refuses to pull its punches. Whether you are a smoker, an ex-smoker, or someone who has never touched a cigarette in your life, Vicente Amiel\u2019s book offers a refreshing breath of smoky, rebellious air in a suffocatingly polite literary landscape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Recommended for: fans of dark European humour, fast-paced satirical fiction, and readers who appreciate the biting social critiques of authors like Tom Sharpe or Eduardo Mendoza.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A Note on the Translation<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n I did it again: I started translating it into English without first getting the \u00a9. And I have already done half of the book. Now I am stuck: the author does not seem to have an obvious digital footprint, the publisher seems to already be out of business, and I have done half the book. The situation perfectly mirrors the iconic Laurel and Hardy catchphrase: \u201cWell, here\u2019s another nice mess you\u2019ve gotten me into!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Whether you are a smoker, an ex-smoker, or someone who has never touched a cigarette in your life, Vicente Amiel\u2019s book offers a refreshing breath of smoky, rebellious air in a suffocatingly polite literary landscape<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":3765,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[11,51,13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3764","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book","category-review","category-trails"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3764","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3764"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3764\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3766,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3764\/revisions\/3766"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3765"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3764"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3764"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3764"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}