Selva Almada — новинки

The novel tells the story of two friends, Enero and El Negro, who take Tilo, the teenage son of Eusebio – their recently deceased friend – fishing to the Paraná River. While they drink and cook and talk and dance, they try to overcome the ghosts of their past and those of the present: their mood altered by wine and torpor. This intimate, peculiar moment connecting the lives of these three men also links them to the lives of the local inhabitants of this watery universe that runs by its own laws. There are losses, premature deaths… But there is also the stubborn vitality of nature: a bush covered with ancient trees, animals, birds; the river bearing life in its entrails, the people born and raised in this landscape which they protect tooth and nail against intruders. This story, which flows like water, talks about the love between friends, the love of a mother for her daughters, and the love of the islanders for their river and everything that lives in it. This masterful novel reveals once again Selva Almada's unique voice and extraordinary sensitivity, allowing its characters to shine and express in action what the depths of their souls harbour.

One of the Best Books of 2020 in **Clarín **and La Nación. Shortlisted for the Mario Vargas Llosa Novel Prize

Almada narrates the case of three small-town teenage girls murdered in the 1980’s; three unpunished deaths that occurred before the word ‘femicide’ was even coined. In this brutal but necessary novel, Almada brings to the fore these crimes committed in the interior of the country, while Argentina was celebrating the return of democracy. Three deaths without culprits: 19-year old Andrea Danne, stabbed in her own bed; 15-year old María Luisa Quevedo, raped, strangled, and dumped in wasteland; and 20-year old Sarita Mundín, whose disfigured body was found on a river bank. Selva Almada takes these and other tales of abused women to weave together a dry, straightforward portrait of gender violence that surpasses national borders and speaks to readers’ consciousness all over the world.

Un reverendo y su hija de viaje por el Chaco, en un clima de conflictos y tormentas, entreveros y catástrofes latentes, diálogos filosos y locura solapada. Casi cinematográfica, El viento que arrasa es una novela en la que los personajes son nítidos, corpóreos, se escuchan sus voces, sus modos. Y los del paisaje: el monte, el sol fuerte, los árboles achaparrados, los autos rotos, las camisas transpiradas y las vidas destruidas.

Tres adolescentes de provincia asesinadas en la década de 1980, tres muertes impunes ocurridas cuando todavía, en nuestro país, desconocíamos el término “femicidio”.
Tres asesinatos entre los cientos que no alcanzan para titulares de tapa ni convocan a las cámaras de los canales de Buenos Aires. Tres casos que llegan desordenados: los anuncia la radio, los conmemora un diario de pueblo, alguien los recuerda en una conversación. Tres crímenes ocurridos en el interior del país, mientras la Argentina festejaba el regreso de la democracia. Tres muertes sin culpables.
Convertidos en obsesión con el paso de los años, estos casos dan lugar a una investigación atípica e infructuosa. La prosa nítida de Selva Almada plasma en negro lo invisible, y las formas cotidianas de la violencia contra nenas y mujeres pasan a integrar una misma trama intensa y vívida. Con este libro, la autora abre nuevos rumbos a la no-ficción latinoamericana.