In his final novel, the Nobel Prize winner Mario Vargas Llosa returns to his native Peru.
Toño Azpilcueta, writer of sundry articles, aspirant to the now defunct professorship of Peruvian studies, is an expert in the vals, a genre of music descended from the European waltz but rooted in New World Creole culture. When he hears a performance by the solitary and elusive guitarist Lalo Molfino, he is convinced not only that he is in the presence of the country’s finest musician, but that his own love for Peruvian music, as he has long suspected, has a profound social function. If he could just write the biography of the man before him and tell the story of both the vals and its attendant inspiring ethos, huachafería (Peru’s most important contribution to world culture, according to Toño), he might capture his country’s soul and inspire his fellow citizens remember the ties that bind them. Through music, the populace might unite and lay down their arms and embrace a harmonious and unified Peruvian culture.
Both a send-up of parochial idealism and a love song to the culture of his homeland, Mario Vargas Llosa’s I Give You My Silence is the final novel of the Peruvian Nobel Prize winner, whose enduring works captured a changing Latin America. His tragic hero Toño, a man whose love for a democratic, proletarian music is at odds with the culture and politics of a modern Peru scarred by violence, is the writer’s last statement on the revelatory, maddening, and irrepressible belief in the transformative power of art.
Jorge Mario Pedro Vargas Llosa, 1st Marquess of Vargas Llosa, more commonly known as Mario Vargas Llosa, was a Peruvian novelist, journalist, essayist, and politician. Vargas Llosa was one of the Spanish language and Latin America's most significant novelists and essayists and one of the leading writers of his generation. Some critics consider him to have had a more substantial international impact and worldwide audience than any other writer of the Latin American Boom. In 2010, he won the Nobel Prize in Literature "for his cartography of structures of power and his trenchant images of the individual's resistance, revolt, and defeat". Vargas Llosa rose to international fame in the 1960s with novels such as The Time of the Hero (La ciudad y los perros, 1963/1966), The Green House (La casa verde, 1965/1968), and the monumental Conversation in The Cathedral (Conversación en La Catedral, 1969/1975). He wrote prolifically across various literary genres, including literary criticism and journalism. His novels include comedies, murder mysteries, historical novels, and political thrillers. He won the 1967 Rómulo Gallegos Prize and the 1986 Prince of Asturias Award. Several of his works have been adopted as feature films, such as Captain Pantoja and the Special Service (1973/1978) and Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter (1977/1982). Vargas Llosa's perception of Peruvian society and his experiences as a native Peruvian influenced many of his works. Increasingly, he expanded his range and tackled themes from other parts of the world. In his essays, Vargas Llosa criticized nationalism in different parts of the world. Like many Latin American writers, Vargas Llosa was politically active. While he initially supported the Cuban revolutionary government of Fidel Castro, Vargas Llosa later became disenchanted with its policies, particularly after the imprisonment of Cuban poet Heberto Padilla in 1971, and later identified as a liberal and held anti-left-wing ideas. He ran for the presidency of Peru in 1990 with the center-right Frente Democrático coalition, advocating for liberal reforms, but lost the election to Alberto Fujimori in a landslide. Vargas Llosa continued his literary career while advocating for right-wing activists and candidates internationally following his exit from direct participation in Peruvian politics. He was awarded the 1994 Miguel de Cervantes Prize, the 1995 Jerusalem Prize, the 2010 Nobel Prize in Literature, the 2012 Carlos Fuentes International Prize, and the 2018 Pablo Neruda Order of Artistic and Cultural Merit. In 2011, Vargas Llosa was made the Marquess of Vargas Llosa by Spanish king Juan Carlos I. In 2021, he was elected to the Académie française.
Toño Azpilcueta is a writer who contributes to magazines, writing mainly reviews of musical talent in Peru. He is called one day by a good friend begging him to come and listen to a new guitar player.
Toño attends the bar where Lalo Molfino is playing and his life is transformed by the beauty of what he hears. A short time later he begins to write a book about the young genius, a book that will transform his country, bringing it together through the influence of the Peruvian vals and what he considers to be Peru's greatest cultural asset - huachaferia (a word with many different nuances but typically defined as pretension).
However, Toño's search for Molfino and his beginnings are hampered and as he begins to write the book he finds himself becoming more and more ambitious as he adds to the scope of his original idea.
I Give You My Silence is the final novel by Mario Vargas Llosa. I hate to admit it but it is the first one I've read. Shame on me. The novel is a mixture of the history and culture of Peru along with Toño's story. The factual parts about the country were interesting but it was the story of Toño that captivated me with his all too human desire to create something truly great. He was a complex and flawed character.
It may have been my first but I have an entire ouevre to choose from now.
Highly recommended.
Thankyou to Netgalley and Farrar Strauss and Giroux for the digital review copy.
This is a finely turned beautifully tuned final book. It is philosophical, funny, very Peruvian, nostalgic and lyrical. It follows Toño Azpilcueta, a music journalist, as he writes a book which is a love letter to Creole music, whilst being tormented by imagined rats. It made me nostalgic for a country I have never visited, a time in which I have never lived and for all the vals I have never heard. Mario Vargos Llosa was a great writer and his powers never left him. This is as fresh as Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter which I read over 30 years ago and has made me nostalgic for the act of reading that book too. Thankyou to Netgalley and Farrar Strauss and Giroux for the digital review copy.
“I Give You My Silence” leaves Mario Vargas Llosa’s career on a high note – pun intended. His last novel tells the story of aspiring musicologist Toño Azpilcueta and his efforts to write a book about the greatest Peruvian guitarist that no one had ever heard of, Lalo Molfino. This love of Peruvian creole folk music and the obsessive study of it is a proxy for pride in the Peruvian character, and as Toño dives deeper into Molfino’s story, uncovering everything possible about him, he ends up learning about the story of Peru as a whole.
In many ways, Mario Vargas Llosa’s last novel is a love letter to his country, and it’s clear that this relationship between art and national identity has been fruitful for the late great Vargas Llosa – he is arguably Peru’s most famous and most influential novelist to date. “I Give You My Silence” has a lot to say about the relationship between art and nationalism, and it even has a lot to say about what kind of art we deem as “respectable” and highbrow versus what kind of art we see as “degenerate” and lowbrow – there’s a fundamental class critique in the book with how Peruvian music is treated, where the likes of Lalo Molfino and many other musicians had to fight to be as respected as the European music that had been brought to Peru. By celebrating the folk hero that was Lalo Molfino, Toño tries to give back to his country by giving an unknown, unsung legend his flowers, even if the world sees his passion project and his subject of being lower-class and not as respectable as the European-inspired vals. (In a way, you can argue that Toño’s mission is to give Peru its flowers; he even says so at many times in the book). Lalo Molfino’s story is much like a lot of self-taught musicians who tried to escape poverty by making it in the music industry, and just like Toño, it makes you feel proud to hear this story of how the greatest guitarist of the country came from nothing. Throughout the book, Vargas Llosa keeps his eyes on the racial and class considerations of the book, painting a rich and real portrait of the country that made him – a place filled with African, Indigenous, and European flavor that is the story of Latin America. It’s also an awesome mini-history lesson on the music of Peru, from the European vals to the Black and mestizo traditions of “música criolla”.
“I Give You My Silence” feels like the last great statement of a writer who put Peru on the literary map, literally and figuratively. But at the same time, it is a novel that confronts legacy as a whole. Could Lalo Molfino be a stand-in for the 89-year-old Vargas Llosa? The book wants you to make that conclusion, since Lalo Molfino’s last words before his disappearance is where the book’s title comes from, much in the same way that Vargas Llosa knew that this novel was going to be his last. I can’t confidently say that “I Give You My Silence” has any autobiographical elements, but as I was reading it, I couldn’t help but feel as though Vargas Llosa knew his time was coming and was not resigned but resolved enough to make a final statement for all of us. This is his “Donuts”, his “Blackstar”: a confirmation of one’s life being dedicated to the power of art, a thing that may transcend and outlive human life on earth as we know it. In fact, we know it does transcend and outlive, because in the final years leading up to Vargas Llosa’s death, he had time to bring us one last great Latin American novel for the ages, and there’s something so beautiful about that.
For those interested in discovering actual Peruvian music, “I Give You My Silence” makes me want to listen to Susana Baca, the chicha compilation “The Roots of Chicha”, and the David Byrne-compiled “Afro-Peruvian Classics: The Soul of Black Peru”. I recommend listening to those artists/albums if you want to dive into the Peruvian creole music that Vargas Llosa focused on here.
The swan song of Mario Vargas Llosa (1936–2025), Le dedico mi silencio, is a love letter to Peruvian Creole music.
“A vision of Creole music as the key to defeating prejudice and opening hearts and minds.” “Society would come together in such a way that no one was beneath consideration and all were treated as worthy human beings. Progress and respect would reign … ”
We follow Toño, a scholar who has dedicated his entire life to Creole music, having breakfast at the Bransa, interviewing people, and doing research at the National Library in Lima, Peru. One day, he hears the performance of the finest guitarist he has ever encountered, Lalo Molfino. This performance inspires him to finally write his only book about Creole music.
Creole music and its great musicians were born in the filthy alleyways where humans shared rooms with rats, true miracles of poverty in Peru. “For those who lived in the alleyways, Creole music was synonymous with home.” Later, Creole music took flight and became a national treasure, beloved by people of all classes. Thus, Toño’s hypothesis is that Creole music is the key to uniting Peruvian society, and perhaps even all of humanity.
“And if such a thing could happen in Latin America, why not in the entire world, to the benefit of humanity as a whole?”
His thesis seems proven by the Creole musician couple Toni and Lala. Toni, from a privileged background, against all odds marries Lala, who comes from a disadvantaged one. They remain married and content until their deaths, bound together by the glue of Creole music.
However, Toño himself allows Creole music to come between him and his wife. His own marriage becomes an antithesis to his ideal. I like how Toni gently reminds him: “What happened with Lala and me, that was exceptional. Love, you know …”
No matter how enthusiastic and idealistic the book may be, it is not without doubt or disappointment. At some point, Toño accepts that he will not see his dream realized within his lifetime. Now that Mario Vargas Llosa himself is gone, reading this novel feels like reading his literary last will:
“… this book you hold in your hands, reader, will be the starting point of a true revolution that will pull our Peru up from poverty and sorrow, restoring its glory and creativity, making it a place where all are truly equal, and putting an end to the sad divisions of its people.”
Reading this book as a musician, a lover of German art songs, and a song collector for the Global Songbook (Lutheran World Federation), I found it deeply inspiring. It offered precious insights and much to reflect on regarding the meaning of song.
The English edition, translated from the Spanish by Adrian Nathan West, will be published on February 24, 2026.
Thank you to Farrar, Straus and Giroux (@fsgbooks) and NetGalley (@netgalley) for the eARC.
P.S. Peruvians celebrate Creole Song Day annually on October 31. This national holiday honors Peruvian Creole culture, a vibrant musical tradition born from the fusion of Indigenous, African, and Spanish influences.
This novel is a love song dedicated to Peru, its people, its history, its culture and most of all its music. It was quite consciously written as Vargas Llosa's last novel, as he says in the afterword and as is implied in the title. Until now I have not been a big fan of Vargas Llosa. I read a couple of his other novels, but the style did nothing for me, the politics felt immature and performative and the sexuality of the characters felt like the wet dreams of a middle-aged man infected with the macho disease. Why did this guy win the Nobel Prize? I think it was on account of his politics more than his writing. But this book completely redeemed him for me.
I was enchanted by the character of Toño. He is smart and insightful. I was carried away by his passion. I liked how his experience of one transcendent night of music by Lalo Molfino changed his life. Toño believes that the defining quality of the Peruvian national character is huachaferia, a sort of magnificent slightly tawdry arrogance that he sees first in the Peruvian creole music that he loves and then in Peruvians from all walks of life and then in himself. It is the thing that makes him interesting, that gives him his passion, that allows him to write his book, but it is also his downfall, and, perhaps in the end, his salvation.
The narrative style is interesting. Facts, history and the real-life stars of the Peruvian music scene are blended together with the made-up parts. It reminded me of how whaling is integrated into the story of Moby Dick. Sometimes it is hard to tell what is real and what is not, but I think that is in part the point. It's about the truth of the feeling, not the truth of the facts, which can be molded as needed to evoke the proper feeling. Similarly, there is a blending of narrative voices. Sometimes it is Toño speaking, sometimes Vargas Llosa, sometimes perhaps some third-party anonymous editor. Toño is and isn't Vargas Llosa's alter ego. But as in the case of the blending of fact and fiction, I don't think that it pays to try to draw a bright line between where Toño ends and Varga Llosa begins.
And then there is the music. Unless you already know as much about Peruvian creole music as Toño, you absolutely must pause every few chapters to go over to YouTube and listen to Peruvian vals music. Doing this gave the book a deeper meaning for me and gave me a much better sense of the untranslatable aspects of huachaferia.
I read this book in two sittings over the course of a day and a half. It wasn't exactly a page turner but one to savor, like a special meal or a neat glass of complex bourbon. I didn't want the novel to end knowing it was the last novel Vargas Llosa would ever write.
Was it his best? No. But he puts a fine point on how he felt about his native country of Peru, where many of his novels are set, including this one about a writer who had a theory that the creole popular music of Peru could bridge social, racial, and class divides to unify Peru. He argues that the Peruvian popular music originated and flourished in the alleyways where the poorest Limans lived and congregated where the cajon provided the unique rhythmic structure in creole valses.
Through his main character, the writer Tono Azpilcueta, Vargas Llosa sketches the concept of huachaferia, a way of understanding the world common to all Peruvians with class nuances. His theories gain some traction but the more he expounded on them, the less popular they became.
Tono Azpilcueta, a hopeless romantic, prone to exaggeration is thought to be the foremost expert on Peruvian music. One night he hears a guitarist of remarkable talent. It is this genius young picker, an orphan, it turns out, who was abandoned as an infant near a small village trash heap, who becomes the inspiration for Tono’s Magnum Opus, a sprawling expose on Peruvian music and history. The first edition sold out to rave reviews and led to a professorship though subsequent editions obscured the original thesis .
The irony here is that Tono Azpilcueta is plagued by an irrational fear of rats that breed in the trash heaps and alleyways, the birthplace of Peruvian popular music and its greatest guitar talent. In my opinion, Tono's obsession with rats symbolizes Peru’s history of conflict and conquest, its social inequalities and racism, and his own inability to tolerate dissent and disapproval. Which leaves me thinking that the notion of national unity through creole music is an implausible theory and maybe Vargas Llosa’s final point.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Mario Vargas Llosa told us I Give You My Silence would be his last novel. Appropriate title. Julian Barnes also told us Departures was his last novel recently. I like the idea of great writers intending their last novel and inviting the reader to celebrate with them. Llosa writes of Tono, a journalist writer, who wants to change Peru into a humanitarian and joyful country. The idea comes to him while listening to a primo guitarist and singer. Tono's depth and expression of emotions is prevalent throughout the whole book. We really get to know him, quirks, mistakes, flaws and all. IF Tono can write the singer's life and it's meaning, he believes Peru may perhaps unite all of Peru. The singer will, therefore, comfort, encourage and bring out the love of all those who are not wealthy nor powerful. "The Creole music will bring us together." Tono's dream and passion are ignited. The singer, however, dies very young, early in the story. Tono continues to pursue the book, taking a journey to discover those who knew the singer and discover his passion and most beautiful songs. The tragic story of the singer begins on an enormous trash heap, where his mother leaves him swaddled, to feed the rats. Llosa tells a beautiful story which includes his own rags to riches, as well as his riches to rags because of wanted more for material about the singer and Tono's scholarly interpretations. Of course, well-written. How can a Nobel writer not write well? Very educating about Peru and her people. Very interesting. Yet, somehow I never really enjoyed it.
The last work of Nobel Prize winning author, Mario Vargas Llosa, who died in April 2025, after the novel, I Give You My Silence, was written.
It's a love song and a farewell to Peru, where the author was born; he lived in the capital city of Lima. The novel follows the life of Tono Alpizqueta, a fictional character who is an expert on the Peruvian vals/waltz, a guitar music born in the early 20th Century in the streets of Peru, which became popular among all social classes throughout the country.
Tono hoped that the music would break the barriers of race and class in Peru and would cause all Peruvians to feel as one. This may not have happened, but it was a lofty and very optimistic, if an unrealistic and perhaps simplistic view held by Tono of the complexities of discrimination and the lasting effects of past Spanish colonialism in that country.
Tono followed the sad and tragic life of Peru's greatest guitarist, Lalo Molfino, who took his life at a young age.
Vargas Llosa's novel is moving as he pays tribute to the Peruvian waltz and the people of the streets who first created and developed it. His love of his people and his culture is evident in his final story of the people of Peru.
I Give You My Silence, by Mario Vargas Llosa, might not be as good a some of his early novels but it is still a wonderful story that touches on all the themes he has emphasized in the past.
I think what might make this a little different is that it can more easily be read as just a celebration of culture and music even though, upon reflection, power dynamics and politics (both within organizations and national/international as well) play valuable roles in why success is either just out of reach or only fleeting in nature.
I actually think this might be among a handful of his books that would serve as a good introduction to him. The reader doesn't very much background into Peru's various governments over the years or even very much about the culture. We are given what we need to understand and appreciate the story and the characters. The more you might know certainly adds to your enjoyment but isn't essential to appreciating the novel as a novel.
Recommended for both fans and those wanting to read more internationally acclaimed writers.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.
This is the amazing last novel of the Peruvian Nobel Prize Winner of 2010 in Literature, Mario Vargas Llosa. I've not read any of his other works, but this was recommended as a treatise on music. It is the author's last novel, which he wrote while he knew he had terminal illness, and it is a beautiful love letter to Peru and as he posits Peru's two gifts to the world - the Peruvian music "vals" and the concept of huachaferia. He weaves the entire history of this art form and mentions of its most famous composers, singers, guitarists and cajones throughout the story of one man, a near-crazy (or is he?) idealist obsessed with the idea that Peruvian vals can bring the country together and his attempt to write a book about these two gifts. I loved learning about vals, and Peruvian culture as well as the food for thought about the importance of music in our lives. It is a short book, which gives you time to look up the various musicians and listen to vals music. PS the cover of the book is Botero's The Musicians, while not Peruvian, a perfect choice.
This "novel" is really a paen to Peruvian "vals" music under cover of the story of a young journalist/ scholar who discovers an incredible guitarist playing a battered instrument. The musician dies early and he sets out to find who he was and where he learned his astonishing technique. He writes a novel to tell whaaat he learned and how this genre of music made it from the slums to the upper crust of Peru, and even opines that it has the capacity to generate a unity in society. Interesting and easy to read.
I Give You My Silence is a beautifully written story that mixes real facts with fiction in an affirmation of the author's love for his country, his culture, his music, his people. A true advocate of a more igualitarian society, Mario Vargas Llosa leaves in his last book a message that culture, love, music transcends governments, policies, skin color, ages. I thank the author's estate, their publisher, and NetGalley for this ARC.
Vargitas is still Vargitas at a very advanced age. His last book on the music or Peru (Peruvian Waltz) and how this functioned or could function as means of national identity. Not his best of course, but a joy to read and use it to discover Peruvian Waltz maestros. Always among the greatest of the 20-21st century novelists and essayists.