Evolution, ethnography, epidemic: this It is the soup that Dengue boyA new brilliant and brilliant novel by Argentine author Michel Nieva, emerges. The homonymous dengue boy is a mosquito hybrid -human that could be an experiment, a genetic mutant or the result of some terrible corporate crime. It could be all three at the same time. In any case, no matter much for the monstrous creature, whom we find that he lives in 2272 in what remains of Argentina after the fusion of the Antarctic ice layer has made most of the world underwater or disinterestably hot .
Hot enough to roast a turkey in 20 minutes flat to what happens for room temperature in California. Meanwhile, the “Argentine Caribbean” remains a relatively accelerated average throughout the year of 140 degrees Fahrenheit (60 degrees Celsius). It is little surprise, then, that the developers have been occupied by terrafting the Antarctic Caribbean, which engineers to recreate small slices of land on earth. For a flat rate, customers can choose packages of five, 10 or 20 species to populate their mass bioma. Who cares about a Amazon jungle when I can do 30?
Humanity is enduring, more or less, as an error at the bottom of a rock. On the other side of the rock are the privileged children of the viroeconomy (more about that later). These children connect to virtual headphones and immerse themselves in conquest fantasies like the game Christians V Indians 2. A character fantasizes to get the sheep: close meat lights with endless holes to explore. Some have entire cabinets full of things.
I mention that the sheep are not deprientes, but because they have something about the strangeness of Dengue boy. Everything is very fleshy. Heads division, tentacles that sink, entrails that are going out: the book is an uproar of body sensations. One could call the book “Climate Fiction”, since it develops in a world clearly in the spiral of the death of the climatic catastrophe, but this would underline the intoxicating rarity of the novel, which jumps through the economy, sexuality, sexuality, Biology and temporality without really breathing.
Any novel in which the protagonist is in an insect body draws the inevitable comparison with Metamorphosis. The inner fin of the book describes Dengue boy as an “extraordinary Kafkaesco portrait of a future insane.” But in Kafka’s novel, Gregor Samsa wakes up to be transformed into a monstrous error; His immense pain comes from his knowledge of what was once and from the life he would like to return.
Dengue Boy was always a dengue boy. It has no transformation with which it must reach an agreement. It is the outside world that must be taken to know it. “Where his mother would have liked to see the plumb Constant, crazy Buzz that would even lead to the quieter soul to despair. “
In MetamorphosisGregor Samsa’s transformation is a unique street. But Dengue Boy will go through a whirlwind of changes, such as the evolution that works in rapid progress, until it is clear exactly where they begin or end time or fact or fiction.
In Dengue boy The billionaire class are not bros tech, but speculators in the so -called viroeconomy, who bet on what disease are about to take off and then make a killing of killing aspirate. Together with the developers who build resorts on the ground ceded for retiring with ice helmets, they are the only real winners in the disaster economy. A certain type of person is needed to see a landscape divided by destruction and see an opportunity for luxury condominiums.
Everything that sounds a bit depressing, except the visceral and surreal prose of Nieva, which is transferred from Spanish by Rahul Bery, is quite the opposite. This is a book that carries the horrible strangeness of the world and exploits it in something that is terrible and impossible to look the other way. He reminded me of the final scene of the movie. Pearlin which Mia Goth faces the camera with a ricus smile that crawls and continues, until she is sobbing, slowly unknown of deep despair while the final credits develop.
Dengue boy Play this trick in reverse. It is a grimace that becomes a smile. It is a camera taking that rotates so many times that you are not sure if it is the director or the actor you are seeing, and in any case you feel dizzy or simply are vertiginous of emotion.
It is a rarity in slices, turned in a salad roulette and is served with a little indescribable dirt at the top. It is delicious, if you can endure it.