
I'm thrilled to have discovered a Brazilian novelist so good that I plan to read and review all seven of his works translated into English over the next several weeks. His name is Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza (1936-2020). I found The Silence of the Rain, his first novel, an absorbing page-turner as well as outstanding literature on the level of Rubem Fonseca, Clarice Lispector, and Jorge Amado. Take a gander at my highlight reel focusing on a number of captivating features and colorful characters.
Opening Scene - On the first pages, we witness Ricardo Carvalho, age forty-two, an executive director of Planalto Minerações, as he finishes a cigarette while sitting in his car in a parking garage. He then rolls up the windows, opens his briefcase, takes out a gun, presses the barrel to his head, and pulls the trigger. Suicide. Thus, we as readers know something the police do not. This disparity of knowledge regarding Carvalho's death (someone removed the gun and briefcase, therefore the police assume it was murder) creates a most intriguing dynamic throughout the novel.
Inspector Espinosa - Our main character is a tall, lean, seasoned cop who tends to go with his intuition and instincts. Espinosa, a loner at heart, is no ordinary police officer – he's a literary man attuned to beauty. He would rather hunt down a translation of Herman Melville, Charles Dickens or Joseph Conrad at a used bookstore than hunt down a murderer. Also worth noting, Espinosa is divorced but doesn't dwell on his distant past; he much prefers to fantasize about developing a loving relationship with a beautiful woman. Ah, a romantic.
Unique Structure - The novel is divided into four parts. Part 1 is written in objective third person, allowing the author to establish and develop the unfolding drama on a broad canvas, moving from character to character, setting the tone and atmosphere. Parts 2 and 3 shift to first person, where, similar to Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe, we follow Espinosa as the inspector thinks and moves through the various happenings. Part 4 shifts back to objective third person as the frequently violent drama reaches its conclusion. Wow. Thank you, Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza. As we turn the pages, we're drawn deeper and deeper into the author's riveting tale.
Bea - Ricardo Carvalho's wife wasn't exactly close to her womanizing husband. These past years, Bia's energies have been much more focused on her creativity and art along with her highly successful art gallery. Thirty-four-year-old Bia isn't only a refined, educated, and cultured lady, she's a real looker who moves with the grace of a dancer. "Bia's beauty wasn't – not all of it – immediately obvious: its new and unrevealed facets were constantly coming to light." When Espinosa comes around to break the tragic news of her husband's death to Bia, do you think our inspector is attracted to this gifted, upper-class lady? Oh, yes, there's no doubt about it.

Max - “He'd lost his job more than a month earlier and hadn't managed to find another one. Even though he'd graduated from high school, he didn't have any real skills. He'd committed his first robbery out of desperation, but it was so easy – and so lucrative – that he didn't see any reason to go out and look for a job. So that's what he'd been doing for the last year.” Not only does Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza develop completely rounded, interesting characters, but, as with Max, the Brazilian author also folds in many sociological insights regarding what it is like to be poor in Rio.
Alba – Espinosa's investigations lead him to a gym where a young lady by the name of Alba spends her days working out (she's a part owner of the gym). After interviewing Alba, the romantic cop has much to reflect upon. “While he was driving, he compared the two women. Bia's looks were more aristocratic and her sensuality expressed in small details; Alba's were more wild and her sensuality, like the rest of her, explosive. Culturally, Bia's superiority was unchallenged, but emotionally, Alba seemed richer. Bia was surely more interesting; Alba, in spite of her extreme personality, was more straightforward yet still had a relaxing presence.” Espinosa's search for love adds a provocative tang to Garcia-Rosa's mystery novel.

Welber - “When Espinosa arrived, Welber was sauntering down the avenue of trees toward the art school. He looked like a vacationing student: polo shirt, sweater around his shoulders, jeans, sneakers. The look was only thrown off by his untucked shirt, which concealed the gun in his belt. Since the benches in the park were wet from the rain, they sat in the car.” Espinosa had always hesitated to work with or confide in any of the cops at his station. He was more inclined to team up with a young cop, a fresh addition to the force, someone who wasn't yet corrupted. Welber qualified – and this youngster had abundant energy along with being unusually perceptive. Espinosa's dealings with Welber count as a high point in the detective yarn.
Rio – From the office buildings, apartments, restaurants, and coffee shops to the beaches, parks, and streets, we can feel the vibrant pulse of Rio de Janeiro as we turn the pages. What a treat.

Kicker - Luis Alfredo Garcia-Roza proves himself a master in constructing a good mystery – narrative momentum, foreshadowing, red herrings, and, of course, a satisfying ending. And since the author spent a career as a university professor in a philosophy department, there's an ample helping of ideas radiating out from the brutally existential. An extraordinary novel not to be missed. Special thanks to Benjamin Moser for his excellent translation.

Brazilian author Luiz Alfredo Garcia-Roza, 1936-2020
Comments
Post a Comment