The Lost Steps by Alejo Carpentier is my first novel by the author, and it rather disappointed my expectations. The novel tells the story of a man who, grown tired of the modern way of life, leaves it in search of his past roots. The premise sounded interesting, and I expected an engaging story with some philosophical musings thrown into the bargain. But what I didn’t expect was that I’d be at daggers drawn with the protagonist.
The unnamed narrator/protagonist is a disconsolate New York musician who is tired of his present-day Sisyphean life of performing burdensome, mundane, and purposeless tasks. He wants to escape his modern-day alienation but doesn’t know how. When a chance assignment is offered to him to procure prehistoric and indigenous musical instruments from tribes living in South American jungles, he seizes the opportunity, wishing that retracing the steps back to human history and connecting with the ancient cultural roots would help him understand the meaning of life. But he is soon disillusioned. In a painful twist, he comes to the bitter understanding that the past is irrecoverable and that one cannot retrace the lost steps of a lived time. The realization of the existential truth that the lived moment is unique and cannot be relived hits him hard, transforming his journey for meaning into an existential tragedy.
I liked the philosophical depth of this novel. There was much food for thought. We all can resonate with the modern-day alienation. And we yearn to escape from it. But whatever escapism mode we choose, we cannot completely run away from that feeling of isolation and powerlessness. We are deeply rooted in the present moment and in the present social condition, and the solution must come from that present status quo. Existential philosophy doesn’t accept predestination. It acknowledges that “existence precedes essence”. Existential philosophers believed in the exercise of free will, arguing that it’s the individual’s choice and actions that form their own authenticity and not a predestined fate. Carpentier’s story endeavours to prove this point.
The writing is rich in vocabulary, lyrical, and atmospheric, although the occasional intoned intellectual tone made the story sound like an academic text at times. Most of the characters were stereotyped. They were emotionally flat and disagreeable. But what made me cold and distant towards the story was my antagonism with the protagonist. He was an egocentric and callous individual, and I loathed him. That strong antagonism for the protagonist deeply disturbed my enjoyment of the story. He took the story downhill for me, and what saved the story was that he received his just deserts. Not even my love for the story’s intellectual reflections could have turned the tide. Perhaps, the characters as it was necessary for the story. Now, when I think of it, I have always disliked existential protagonists. 🙂
I just can’t say I enjoyed this novel. Still, I’m glad to have come across the author and have read what was regarded as his masterpiece. Alejo Carpentier is clever and wise, but he is a very poor storyteller, in my opinion.
Rating: 3/5
