2nd reading. Raised my rating from **** to *****.

Felt like I tore through this with the inability to put it down for more than a few minutes before wanting to get back to it. An engaging re-telling of a well worn tale, located somewhere between Ellroy's American Tabloid and Pynchon's Crying of Lot 49. Like bubble gum with vitamins and antioxidants; healthy but with a whopping good time attached. Riding along on narrative momentum with occasional rest stops of brilliant social analysis.

Libra was on my "to read" list for a long time.
So happy to have finally experienced it.

One can read Libra as a political thriller or a voice in the discussion about who actually stood behind one of the most notorious political assassinations of the twentieth century. Shots in Dallas proved that this an event can not be easily interpreted, it melts in the mist of conjectures and hypotheses and still is a breeding ground for more and more daring conspiracy theories. (I’m not a huge fan of conspiracy theories, neither in books nor in real life. In fact we, in Poland, have enough these ones. People are divided on those who think that Smolensk was tragic plane accident and others who belive that it was a criminal assassination. Sorry for this personal comment).

Libra operates on three plans. The first one it is a story of Lee H. Oswald shown from his childhood in the Bronx, through his service in Japan, his romance with Marxism and stay in the Soviet Union until his death from Jack Ruby’s hand. Oswald is the title "Libra", the man full of contradictions, like the zodiacal sign of Libra, you really don’t know what could tip the scales on one or other side. From DeLillo's writing emerges portrait of a man without qualities, somewhat mysterious yet undecidable character - we fail to know what exactly his motivation was.

On the second plan we get the conspiratorial activities of the special services and the criminal groups. Here the main roles play retired agents, members of the anti-Castro opposition, anti-communist activists, mafia. Independently of each other are preparing a provocation aimed at Kennedy.

And finally, the third thread, which takes place many years after the assassination of Kennedy. The main protagonist here is a CIA analyst buried by Agency with meticulous facts and factual evidence, trying to order them and get to know what really happened in Dallas. Yes, the same DeLillo is doing.

Like every tragic and unsolved mystery Kennedy’s assassination became a source of a variety theories trying to get a logical explanation. The picture that DeLillo creates is so unsettling and thought-provoking, and the whole story so coherent and plausible that when we finish our reading, our thinking is and what if that was like that … .

"I am reciting a life and I need time"

What a goddamn writer. DeLillo arrives on the page with no urgency. A nonexistent hurriedness permeates these pages. The story of Lee Oswald unravels at an arresting pace. In fact, it's my firm belief that Delillo's contribution to world literature concerns the inevitable slowness of existence. Its inexorability. Much has been said about the fast moving plot. The necessity to keep moving from one event to the other. But here is DeLillo holding you against the arresting moments. He wants you feel the terror not as an outsider. The writer who is trying to give meaning to the singular event, shaping history, giving its deserved tenderness, meaning and memory.

In his piece written for the Guardian post 9/11, titled "In the Ruins of the Future", he mentions what the writer is trying to do when he is recapturing history on the page. The history herein being the sum total of all the things they haven't told, unquestionably. The history which takes shape and structure, events forced into cogency, through news , emanating from locked rooms behind which men change the shimmer of history. History perpetually mutating. History perpetually destined to be customised to make it palatable for public consumption. The writer here is trying to imagine the moment. Not the events that led up to it or the inevitable aftermath of the event. Here he takes into the consideration the event. The shot heard around the world. Shots heard round the world. He imagines the moment that shapes the history desperately. Trying to capture it unvarnished. But the moment doesn't present itself individually. There are of course plots deeply embedded. Plot so subtle yet unshakeable that it's to nobody's surprise the Framed feels this was how it was meant to be. This was destined.

A word on the structure. Interesting. DeLillo narrates the events in a way that seemingly comes across as random but only until we realise Lee's story is unraveling a bit slowly, a bit intentionally off set and behind and fills in expertly when we look at it from his pov. How he showed up at the wrong place at the wrong time through out. How his innate disability to permeate the inner normalcy of living, of society, was ammunition to spin plots that seemed seemingly unavoidable given the larger context of his role to be played in history...

My first foray into the JFK Assassination was the superb Oliver Stone film. I watched it without any prior knowledge of the conspiracy and became fascinated. After this i read Plausible Denial by Mark Lane, which at the time i was in awe of but i’ve since realised is probably a bit fanatical. Plus Mark Lane went way down in my opinion since i’ve read of his involvement in Jonestown.

Libra is a speculative fiction/non-fiction novel that follows Lee Harvey Oswald during his short life from his school days up to his murder by Jack Ruby. I say non-fiction because the majority of this, i.e. his time in Russia, various associations and political beliefs, are probably pretty accurate. The shooting itself is pure conjecture because nobody (except the super secretive government) is au fait with the truth as the main player was killed soon afterwards and the majority of the other alleged conspirators died also. So unless LHO is holding a Q+A session in the afterlife we’ll remain in the dark. This is probably a good thing because the speculation and the who/what/where are always more interesting than the truth, which is why Libra is such a great book.

If you’ve read other Don Delillo you’ll know he has a certain writing style, which takes a couple of chapters to adjust to. I’ve previously read the brilliant Underworld so i was able to instantly settle into his unique mesmeric prose. Running alongside the LHO chapters is the hypothetical story of where the JFK assassination idea originated from. In this case it’s a couple of disgruntled FBI agents who are holding a grudge over the Bay of Pigs fiasco. A brilliant book about an intriguing moment in history. I would also recommend 11/22/63 by Stephen King.

“Libra” é uma obra de ficção que ensaia uma teoria sobre o assassinato do Presidente Kennedy e que tenta, de forma incansável, responder à pergunta – Quem era Lee Harvey Oswald? Encontramos, portanto, esta dupla vertente narrativa ao logo de um texto fragmentário por opção e pejado de vozes, algumas mais interessantes do que outras, sendo que todas convergem rumo à figura de Lee Harvey Oswald.
“Libra” parece ser ainda uma tentativa para contrariar as inúmeras incoerências do Relatório da Comissão Warren, sobretudo sobre Oswald, apresentando ao leitor um homem com aparentes convicções férreas mas que perante a contrariedade se encolhe e busca um novo objectivo menos incómodo. O inverno russo era doloroso, por isso, porque não apoiar a solarenga Cuba?
DeLillo segue ainda o rasto das coincidências na vida de Oswald, coincidências que ele próprio encarava como uma espécie de sinal do destino, uma espécie de consentimento às ações que empreenderia. Oswald, a balança desequilibrada, facilmente influenciável mas sensível à causa mais nobre: a sua pessoa.
Ao longo da leitura e à medida que iam sendo relatadas situações que de facto ocorreram, consultei fotos, vídeos e outros documentos sobre o caso. Uma entrevista de Oswald à rádio, a foto que Marina lhe tira com a arma no quintal dos Paine, as fotos de Oswald Marine com um ar apatetado, as fotos de Oswald na Polícia de Dallas após o atentado, as imagens de Jack Ruby a alvejar Lee Harvey Oswald dois dias depois da morte de Kennedy, as imagens do funeral do pária, a lápide com o seu nome roubada em 1967. Observo, leio, reflicto e permanece a dúvida: Quem era este homem? Alguém sempre desfavorecido que pretendeu, uma vez na vida, destacar-se? Elevar o nome Oswald a uma dimensão superior a qualquer ideal? Ou um joguete nas mãos dos poderosos, vítima de algo que não conseguia alcançar?
Lee Harvey Oswald, o rato de biblioteca que não conseguia escrever duas frases sem dar um erro ortográfico, é até hoje um enigma não resolvido. Ele conseguiu fixar-se na História como um mistério superior ao que envolve a morte de Kennedy.

Don DeLillo:

I am ashamed to admit, but after nearly six decades on planet earth I had not read a book by Mr. DeLillo. About six months ago, I decided to change all that. First, I read "The Players," "Libra," "White Noise" and eventually every book this fantastic novelist has written. He is, in my opinion, one of the greatest American novelist of all time. His name belongs right beside the names of Faukler, Hemingway, Dos Passos, Merville, Fitzgerald, and Capote. His novels paint a portray of the world over the last fifty years that is unmatched by any other author over this same period of time. Many novels like "The Players," "White Noise," "Great Jones Street" and "Ratner's Star" have a prescient effect that is at once frightening and awe inspiring. Others, like "Underground," "Libra" and "Running Dog"are sociological and historical masterpieces.

I count at least five books by Mr. Delillo that were worthy of a Pultizer Prize. They are "The Players," "Libra," "White Noise,""Underground," and "Great Jones Street." His cumulative work is worthy of a Nobel Peace Prize for Literature but I doubt he will ever get one. At least, not until the Nobel Peace Prize Committee, is replaced by knowledgeable and informed individual without a tendency to look more favorably on authors who possess a preference for Communism and socialism.

Maybe my love for Mr. DeLillo's works is due to the fact that he was raised in The Bronx, like myself, and is a New York Yankee fan. Or maybe, I recognize great literature and Mr. DeLillo is the best novelist of his generation. Joseph Sciuto

American birthright comes with an inheritance. A purchase into a collective history, the currency of which is (and always has been) exchanged in divisible units of platelets, plasma, iron, haemoglobin, and cryoprecipitated factor.

They (capital T) would never tell you this directly. If you ever came asking, They would feed you a convincingly performative atonement, a thoughtfully considered justification, and send you on your merry way. "We were just protecting your way of life, fighting to preserve the exceptionalism you hold to be self-evident."

I actually believed this bullshit for a time. It's easy to compelled by the packaged romance of it all; to drown yourself to sleep in the rhythms and cadences of the white noise. But at some point, whether it be tonight or a decade from now, you're going to roll over in those narcotic twilight hours, hear the record scratch, and realise you were lied to this entire fucking time.

"Six point nine seconds of heat and light. Let's call a meeting to analyze the blur. Let's devote our lives to understanding this moment, separating the elements of each crowded second."

11/22/63 was the fulcrum point in American history. I don't use that metaphor idly. The scales had previously been weighed out to ensure the erythrocytic currency never let our star spangled people have to consciously consider their complicity in a history of violence. "Them" but never "Us", catch my drift?

But on this day, the scales tipped, and the machinery of barrel and bone turned back on itself and sprayed that capital all over Dealey Plaza. All because (prepare yourself for a whole toboggan ride of proper nouns) the Person represented the People acted in a way the Power couldn't abide.

...All debts come calling eventually I suppose. How fitting that Lee Oswald was a Libra...

Libra is pitched as a work of fiction but I don't believe it. While the details and finer contours may not adhere neatly to the evidence, I do believe the basic premise is true. That's why I consider it Don DeLillo's masterpiece, and my contender for the Great American Novel.

A crimson portrait of who we are, and how we got here.

a work of bright and ruthless genius, the jfk assassination as recounted by some alien being from the far future. well actually, not really, not at all. well actually, at times it felt like it. is delillo less than human or more than human? the novel makes no attempt to be historically factual. actually, the facts presented are reasonable and sound. the novel is historically factual, as much as anything can be. the narrative is, of course, almost too complex to be detailed. although it is, in its way, a straightforward narrative, straight as an arrow, straight as any history of well-known events could be. conspiracy theories, so many of them, competing with each other, often making complete sense as they are told, only to be collapsed by the next conspiracy theory. the conspiracy theory as just one version of the many-told tale, stories handed down from teller to teller. an interesting conceit. actually, more than that - storytelling is perhaps the point of the whole novel. what is the truth in a story? who is the real person behind the historical personage, behind the character in the story? the novel wonders: can reality ever truly be represented? such a humorous book at times. the jokes are secret jokes, told with a straight face. the deaths are no joke, no joke at all. the novel is dead serious. the death of lee harvey oswald is a harrowing, moving experience, the best sequence of many excellent sequences in the book. the novel is powerful and yet filled with minutiae, with meaningless detail. each detail is packed with meaning. it is a Choose Your Own Adventure, of sorts. astrology is real, it defines us and all of our actions. astrology is an illusion, as is motivation and circumstance and conspiracy and history itself. Libra is a post-modern classic. well, actually

Coming off of White Noise, I was hesitant to pick this up, but I'm really happy that I did. One of my new favorites for sure

In Libra DeLillo dà vita ad un romanzo labirintico e caotico, in cui sembra di perdere il senso della trama ad ogni pagina. Ma a tutto c’è una spiegazione, eventi apparentemente non correlati, personaggi ad una prima impressione slegati tra di loro, si proiettano in avanti da fonti lontane per essere incanalati in un singolo momento della storia: sei secondi a Dallas il 22 novembre 1963.
E se, si chiede DeLillo, l'assassinio di Kennedy fosse opera di una cospirazione della CIA? E se gli agenti dell'agenzia, disgustati dalla debacle della Baia dei Porci e allarmati dai segnali di un crescente riavvicinamento tra Kennedy e Castro, tramassero per mettere in scena un fallito attentato alla vita del presidente che coinvolgerebbe i sostenitori di Castro? E se prendessero Lee Harvey Oswald - un ex disertore fuggito in Russia, simpatizzante comunista, rientrato in America dopo due anni con moglie russa e figli al seguito - come capro espiatorio? E, infine, se decidessero che un attentato riuscito sarebbe ancora più efficace di un attentato fallito? Questi sono i quesiti che sicuramente si è posto DeLillo mentre si apprestava a rinchiudersi in casa a leggere i corposi volumi della commissione Warren, ben 26.

Il libro si concentra molto sulla vita di Lee Oswald, sul suo sentirsi sempre fuori luogo, disadattato, emarginato e asociale, sensazioni che lo portano anche ad essere violento. Sin dall’infanzia la sua appare una vita di transito, fatta di spostamenti infiniti e di abitazioni diverse che mai si trasformano in Casa. Questo suo senso di non appartenenza a nulla lo porterà a sviluppare un profondo terrore dell’invisibilità: la paura di non essere nessuno, di essere solo un emarginato, il cui destino non importa a nessuno terrorizza Oswald, che cerca ogni pretesto per immedesimarsi con qualsiasi modello gli capiti a tiro (marines americani, rivoluzionari russi, perfino il presidente Kennedy…).
Un personaggio così fragile, così malleabile è perfetto per la CIA, che lo può davvero “instradare” verso un gesto che alla fine parrà allo stesso Oswald la semplice realizzazione del suo destino, quello che era stabilito dalla Storia.

C’è un altro piano narrativo in Libra, rappresentato da Nicholas Branch, una sorta di alter ego letterario dello stesso DeLillo, incaricato di studiare e riscrivere per la CIA la storia segreta dell'assassinio del Presidente. Il lavoro sembra ai limiti dell’impossibile, perché documenti all’apparenza insignificanti continuano a piovergli addosso, lasciandolo in preda allo sconforto per la maggior parte del tempo. Ciò che possiamo dedurre grazie a Branch è che la posizione di DeLillo non arriva a deridere (come molti fanno, invece) la commissione Warren: Oswald ha sparato, ma non è stato il solo; è stato però l’unico capro espiatorio, perché era molto più semplice così, perché un avvenimento di tale portata richiedeva una risoluzione immediata: l’assassino del Presidente non poteva non essere arrestato in poche ore. Il piano originario, organizzato da Win Everett (ex agente Cia), prevedeva un fallimento organizzato che servisse da monito a Kennedy, un persuasivo “suggerimento” volto a modificare radicalmente la politica nei confronti di Castro; ma, come spesso succede ai complotti, l’idea ha volontà propria, si propaga di voce in voce, cambia forma, intercetta desideri di altre forze (fbi, mafia, esuli cubani anticastristi…) e raggiunge mani che operano diversamente dal suo fautore: l’omicidio di Kennedy è quasi un caso, il compimento di centinaia di speculazioni e complotti ridotti a pochissimi secondi di Storia.
«Tu pensa a due linee parallele – disse. – Una è la vita di Lee H. Oswald. L'altra è il complotto per assassinare il presidente. Che cosa congiunge lo spazio fra le due linee? Che cosa rende inevitabile l'incontro? C'è una terza linea. Esce dai sogni, dalle visioni, dalle intuizioni, dalle preghiere, dagli strati profondi della personalità. Non è generata da causa ed effetto come le altre due. È una linea che interseca la casualità, attraversa il tempo. Non ha una storia che possiamo riconoscere o capire. Ma impone una congiunzione. Mette un uomo sulla strada del suo destino».

This is Delillo's take on the JFK assassination. The novel therefore has a ready-made compelling plot. Once again I was blown away by the beauty and the wisdom of his writing. His portrait of Lee Harvey Oswald is a masterpiece of evoking the complexity one human being can contain. Wholly recommended.