ABOUT THIS BOOK

After decades of violence of all kinds, what remains are the stories. History is revised and debated, its protagonists bear witness, its writers ensure that all the suffering has not been in vain. These stories from Colombia contain pain and love, and sometimes even humor, allowing us to see an utterly vibrant and pulsating country amidst so much death and loss. We encounter townspeople overcome by fear, a man begging unsuccessfully for his life, an execution delayed for Christmas, the sounds and smells of burning coffee plantations, and other glimpses of daily life.
This anthology reflects some of Colombia’s finest literary talent, and most of these stories appear here for the first time in English translation. They reveal the contradictions and complexities of the human condition, yet they also offer hope for the future. In their bold revelations of the depths of despair, these writers provide gripping portrayals of humanity’s tenacious resistance to those very depths.

Best Books for Regional General Audiences, selected by the American Association of School Librarians, and Outstanding Book, selected by the Public Library Association

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY

Jennifer Gabrielle Edwards has published translations in Michigan Quarterly Review, Metamorphoses, Creative Nonfiction Magazine, Indiana Review, and BorderSenses and has translated several novels, screenplays, essays, collections of poetry, and short stories. She is Assistant Manager of Medical Interpreter Services at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston, MA.

REVIEWS

“The dead in Colombia refuse to rest quietly.”—Ilan Stavans

“A disturbing, yet ensnaring, journey into the dark corners of the hearts and minds of a people whose emotional and physical reflexes have been conditioned by years of conflict.”—Gavin O’Toole, The Latin American Review of Books

TABLE OF CONTENTS

EXCERPT

“From the war, what keeps coming back to me, most vividly, is the day we buried our weapons. And the worst of it is that our weapons are still there, waiting for us. At the foot of the fig tree. I’d like to find the boys who have the same itch now that I had. I’d like to take them over there, to the Meta River, where so many years ago we buried the treasure. Ten rifles, an FA assault rifle, and a Thompson machine gun are a good start. I’d like to say to them, ‘There you have it; go after it, boys, go after it. It’s your party now.’”—excerpted from “The Day We Buried Our Weapons” by Plinio Apuleyo Mendoza “Only one minute before, my hands were empty—in a pose of helplessness, of someone who has no job, of someone who is a little hungry—imagining the possibility of one day being able to go into that shop and eat, meticulously, one after the other, all of the pastries in the window. One minute later the revolution was presenting me with a gift in the form of a machete. But what for? I didn’t know.”—excerpted from “Prelude” by Hernando Téllez

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