Almost won an award

Casi gana un premio A few years ago, I learned about a literary prize through the pages of the Brazilian publisher Companhia Das Letras. It was the Man Booker International Prize, which had selected the translation of Um copo de cólera, a book by Brazilian writer Raduan Nassar, as a finalist. The title, translated into English as A Cup of Rage, was published by Penguin, which also owns Companhia Das Letras, a family affair, as they say. At the time, I didn’t give much thought to literary awards. They seemed like a distant thing, irrelevant to my life. But this particular selection stirred something in me. It wasn’t until I remembered a pleasant lunch several years earlier in São Paulo with friends Paulo W. and Samuel T., both editors, among other things, that I recalled Nassar’s work. They had recommended his books, and I decided to seek them out rather than heading to the latest bookstores on Avenida Paulista. Instead, I went to Sebo do Messias, a well-known secondhand bookstore near Praça da Sé, known for its collection of rare and valuable titles. There, I found Um copo de cólera in a 1987 edition from Editora Brasiliense, though the original publication date was 1978. I also acquired Lavoura arcaica, a later work by Nassar, in a beautiful edition from Companhia Das Letras. His first book, originally published in 1975 under another publisher, was also available there. Nassar, born in São Paulo in 1935, has written more than just these two novels, he also authored a collection of short stories, Menina a caminho, published in 1994, which I have yet to read. Um copo de cólera is a brief novel exploring the violence of language and the volatility of relationships. It can be read as a dance between two characters, capturing the different facets of everyday life: sex, bathing, and so on. Critics have suggested influences from the Nouveau Roman movement, particularly from Robbe-Grillet, which isn’t entirely inaccurate. However, Nassar brings a distinct touch of expressionism that would likely challenge the very principles of the Nouveau Roman. His style, written without periods, blending internal monologue with dialogue, draws parallels to certain German experimental literature of the 1970s. Yet, Nassar stands apart, independent of any specific influence. He writes with a voice that is uniquely his own. Years later, Mexican publisher Sexto Piso released Un vaso de cólera, translated by Juan Pablo Villalobos. They announced plans to publish the remaining works of Nassar, including Lavoura arcaica, which already had a Spanish edition from Punto de Lectura. To the best of knowledge, the edition from Sexto Piso circulated little in Buenos Aires. I saw it even in discount tables along Avenida Corrientes. In the same bookstore, there was also a small display featuring La horrible de Lima, a book by Peruvian writer Sebastián Salazar Bondy. It begins with a memorable and brilliant statement about Peruvian literature, one that could easily apply to many others: “We have more custom than customs (…) our custom is totalitarian. It encompasses cooking, music, architecture, dance, sports, pharmacopoeia, urban planning, language, poetry, and religion.”