From Latin America’s literary prankster Mario Bellatin: a novella that puzzles from the first page with its liminal, Lynchian atmosphere.

In an unnamed country by the sea, a grieving kleptomaniac known only as Our Woman is determined to reach the House. There, she will be able to listen to her childhood voice. As she winds her way through a day replete with odd choices and unresolved conclusions, the losses that define Our Woman take clearer shape, while the circumstances of her world turn more opaque. Inhabitants form poetry salons and line up for measly food distributions. Authoritarian landladies maintain an iron-grip on their complexes, men in blue overcoats roam the streets, and train stations remain deserted. Perpetual Law thwarts convention, casting a mysterious pallor over typical narrative questions: what is happening here, and why?

A patron to all that is subversive and unruly, Mario Bellatin’s work beckons to engage with the reality of borders, linguistic exile, and the types of self-estrangement that can barely be articulated. Translated into English by Stephen Beachy, Perpetual Law is familiar as it is disturbing; enrapturing as it is challenging. It is an important key to Bellatin’s complex body of work.

From Latin America’s literary prankster Mario Bellatin: a novella that puzzles from the first page with its liminal, Lynchian atmosphere.

In an unnamed country by the sea, a grieving kleptomaniac known only as Our Woman is determined to reach the House. There, she will be able to listen to her childhood voice. As she winds her way through a day replete with odd choices and unresolved conclusions, the losses that define Our Woman take clearer shape, while the circumstances of her world turn more opaque. Inhabitants form poetry salons and line up for measly food distributions. Authoritarian landladies maintain an iron-grip on their complexes, men in blue overcoats roam the streets, and train stations remain deserted. Perpetual Law thwarts convention, casting a mysterious pallor over typical narrative questions: what is happening here, and why?

A patron to all that is subversive and unruly, Mario Bellatin’s work beckons to engage with the reality of borders, linguistic exile, and the types of self-estrangement that can barely be articulated. Translated into English by Stephen Beachy, Perpetual Law is familiar as it is disturbing; enrapturing as it is challenging. It is an important key to Bellatin’s complex body of work.

From Latin America’s literary prankster Mario Bellatin: a novella that puzzles from the first page with its liminal, Lynchian atmosphere.

In an unnamed country by the sea, a grieving kleptomaniac known only as Our Woman is determined to reach the House. There, she will be able to listen to her childhood voice. As she winds her way through a day replete with odd choices and unresolved conclusions, the losses that define Our Woman take clearer shape, while the circumstances of her world turn more opaque. Inhabitants form poetry salons and line up for measly food distributions. Authoritarian landladies maintain an iron-grip on their complexes, men in blue overcoats roam the streets, and train stations remain deserted. Perpetual Law thwarts convention, casting a mysterious pallor over typical narrative questions: what is happening here, and why?

A patron to all that is subversive and unruly, Mario Bellatin’s work beckons to engage with the reality of borders, linguistic exile, and the types of self-estrangement that can barely be articulated. Translated into English by Stephen Beachy, Perpetual Law is familiar as it is disturbing; enrapturing as it is challenging. It is an important key to Bellatin’s complex body of work.