Fernanda Trías

A taut, harrowing novel about a woman and the people who depend on her as the world around them teeters on the edge of apocalypse—marking an award-winning Latin American author’s US debut. In a city ravaged by a mysterious plague, a woman tries to understand why her world is falling apart. An algae bloom has poisoned the previously pristine air that blows in from the sea. Inland, a secretive corporation churns out the only food anyone can afford—a revolting pink paste, made of an unknown substance. In the short, desperate breaks between deadly windstorms, our narrator stubbornly tends to her few remaining with her difficult but vulnerable mother; with the ex-husband for whom she still harbors feelings; with the boy she nannies, whose parents sent him away even as terrible threats loomed. Yet as conditions outside deteriorate further, her commitment to remaining in place only grows—even if staying means being left behind. An evocative elegy for a safe, clean world, Pink Slime is buoyed by humor and its narrator’s resiliency. This unforgettable novel explores the place where love, responsibility, and self-preservation converge, and the beauty and fragility of our most intimate relationships.

‘The world is this house’, says Clara while she is trying to protect her beloved ones from the world – yes, that one outside their house walls – which seems to threaten them more and more. Clara entrenches herself with her father and her daughter Flor in a dark apartment that inevitably crumbles on them. The roof becomes their last recess of freedom. A caged bird is the only witness of Clara’s fear and resistance against those she thinks are trying to destroy her. ‘Are threats and pain external or inside our own bodies? Where is violence’s root? What are we afraid of? Is there a possibility to find a roof to finally being able to breathe? What are our umbilical cords?’. Fernanda Trías does not answer these questions – impossible for anyone – about instinct, civilization and taboos, instead she gives them shape and dives deep into them a with a grotesque and forceful history written with agility and a Kafkaesque sense of humour. Rooftop is a claustrophobic novel about freedom, and also about fear, violence, motherhood and loss.

En una ciudad portuaria con reminiscencias de Montevideo y asolada por una peste misteriosa, una mujer intenta descifrar por qué su mundo se desmorona. No es sólo el acecho de la enfermedad y la muerte, las algas y los vientos envenenados o la pasta color rosa que es ya lo único que se puede comer, sino el colapso de todos sus vínculos afectivos, la incertidumbre, la eclosión de una soledad radical. Con una prosa inquietante y rica en hallazgos poéticos, Fernanda Trías construye un universo extraordinario que descubre la inmensa belleza y el inmenso dolor que hay en la fragilidad de las relaciones humanas.

No soñarás flores, libro de cuentos de Fernanda Trías publicado por la editorial Laguna libros en Bogotá en el 2016 Pero no fue hasta la semana después, cuando pasó lo del teléfono, que pensé realmente en eso: que el olor de mi padre sería lo primero en olvidarse, lo más frágil, y fue como si de pronto mi padre muriera de nuevo, pero ya no solo, en su casa, tratando de abrirle la puerta a los paramédicos, sino ante mí, en mis propios brazos, literalmente en mis narices. But it wasn′t until the week after, when the thing with the phone happened, that I actually thought about it: that my father′s smell would be the first thing to be forgotten, the most fragile, and suddenly it was as if my father died again, but this time he wasn′t alone, in his house, trying to open the door to the paramedics, it was in front of me, in my own arms, literally in my nosetrils.

«El mundo es esta casa», dice Clara. La llave de la puerta está echada; las ventanas, cubiertas con mantas. Dentro, Clara vive atrincherada con su padre, su hija y un canario enjaulado. Presa de su pasado y de sus miedos, atrapada en un delirio emocional, está convencida de que el mundo exterior es la feroz amenaza de la que debe proteger a su familia. La extenuante batalla que emprende contra él será la confrontación con su propio abismo interior. «¿Vienen las amenazas y el dolor de fuera o están dentro de nuestro propio cuerpo?, ¿dónde anida la violencia?, ¿a qué le tenemos miedo?, ¿existe la posibilidad de encontrar una azotea desde la que respirar?, ¿cuáles son nuestros cordones umbilicales? Fernanda Trías no contesta a estas preguntas —no se puede— sobre el instinto, la civilización y los tabúes, pero las perfila y profundiza en ellas con una historia grotesca y contundente escrita con agilidad y un kafkiano sentido del humor. Atrévanse». —MARTA SANZ—