Pretend You're Dead and I Carry You

Pretend You're Dead and I Carry You

A Novel
No reviews yet
R 57.50
🚚 Ships in 16-18 work days

A Novel

🛡️
Warranty
Non-Returnable.

Product Information

SKU99540204
Stock StatusIn Stock
Safe Checkout

Isolated in a dreary Bogota apartment, Ignacio's light has dimmed, leaving his teenage daughter Valentina to raise herself in the wake of her mother's death. Valentina longs to discover the details of her mother's drowning and for Ignacio to snap out of his depression-his listless afternoons spent smoking cigarettes in long blonde wigs, telenovelas humming in the background, haunted by memories of the young man he loved and betrayed.

From Ignacio's dark past emerges the luminous Mamadora Electrica, the wise travesti who introduced Ignacio to the city's queer scene years prior. Stepping into a maternal role for Valentina, Mamadora fears the worst: that Ignacio's self-loathing may have unleashed a curse on them all. A profound and irreverent story about coming undone, Pretend You're Dead and I Carry You affirms Julian Delgado Lopera as a brilliant and singular voice-"a writer who is grinding their own colors" (Dwight Garner, The New York Times).

Isolated in a dreary Bogota apartment, Ignacio's light has dimmed, leaving his teenage daughter Valentina to raise herself in the wake of her mother's death. Valentina longs to discover the details of her mother's drowning and for Ignacio to snap out of his depression-his listless afternoons spent smoking cigarettes in long blonde wigs, telenovelas humming in the background, haunted by memories of the young man he loved and betrayed.

From Ignacio's dark past emerges the luminous Mamadora Electrica, the wise travesti who introduced Ignacio to the city's queer scene years prior. Stepping into a maternal role for Valentina, Mamadora fears the worst: that Ignacio's self-loathing may have unleashed a curse on them all. A profound and irreverent story about coming undone, Pretend You're Dead and I Carry You affirms Julian Delgado Lopera as a brilliant and singular voice-"a writer who is grinding their own colors" (Dwight Garner, The New York Times).

More in Literary