Roque Larraquy (Buenos Aires, 1975) is an Argentine writer and screenwriter. He is the author, among other texts, of the novels Comemadre (2011) translated into English, German, French, Italian, Portuguese, Turkish and Persian, nominated for the National Book Award in the USA and for the Best Translated Book Award in 2018; Informe sobre ectoplasma animal (2014), an illustrated book made in collaboration with the visual artist Diego Ontivero, translated into English and Italian, and La telepatía nacional (2020), selected among the best ten books written in Spanish of 2020 by The New York Times. His literary has received critical acclaim.
In 2016, he was named the director of Argentina’s first degree-granting program in creative writing, housed at the Universidad Nacional de las Artes. He graduated from the Universidad de Buenos Aires in literary studies. As a professor, he taught audiovisual design at the Universidad de Buenos Aires, film and television screenwriting at the Universidad del Centro de la Provincia de Buenos Aires, and narrative writing at the Universidad Nacional de las Artes.
This already short book consists of 2 novellas that are loosely connected by theme, (relatives of) characters and place.
The writing in the first story, in which a group of doctors in a sanatorium conduct a medical experiment to find out what comes after death, was so dry and almost unserious, it made me laugh multiple times despite the gruesome actions that were taking place.
The second story wasn't memorable to me, maybe because it was overshadowed by the first one.
Part one kind of went over my head and leaned hard into the weird. But part two helped ground things while still keeping that strange and unsettling vibe.
Comemadre was weird in a way that felt controlled and intentional rather than overwhelming. The novel had a strong premise and I really enjoyed how it explored morality and justification, even if subtly. At its core, it also examined a kind of intellectual and existential greed that fueled the narrators. In both timelines, the same question seemed to linger: is this inherently wrong or is it inevitable?
The reader watches as both narrators allow their desire for more to override everything else. With this said, I did find myself wanting a bit more depth/expansion in certain areas, though I also understand that this restraint may have been intentional. Overall, it was a unique and engaging read!
I cant tell what i feel about this book. Both parts are amazing, and i love the ways they tie together. This book is just really weird. like insanely weird. I honestly think the only thing that i needed from this book was more. I want to know more about both of the stories, and how and why they connect.
This is such an odd book. It’s the type of weirdness that I wouldn’t want anyone I actually know to know I read a book like this to completion, but because of that weirdness I couldn’t stop reading it. Trying to figure out how the second half of the book connected to the first half was very enthralling.
There's a super jarring scene that involves the sexual assault of a young boy. I finished it but struggled because pretty much every character is reprehensible.