São Paulo Noir
Page 23
Luciflor suddenly seems afraid of narrating more details, but she continues: “Deusdete confirmed that it really was the boy, shares the name of the adoptive parents, soy planters. People with dough. The doctor lived by himself in the capital. And you know what that animal Deusdete did? She vanished again, with Guiomar’s son. She got the idea of kidnapping the young man. Slowly she came up with a crazy plan.”
I laughed. It was easy to guess what happened next. And I commented as much to Luciflor. Many books have dealt with such a switch. Of identity. I’ll bet Guiomar’s son Betinho was involved in the kidnapping. He went to live in his doctor brother’s home. Didn’t you tell me, on another occasion, that Betinho was studying to be a nurse? Something in that area, in a small clinic, I don’t know. That’s it, isn’t it? Did I get it right?
Guiomar went to work for Betinho, thinking that Betinho, the son she raised, was the other son she didn’t raise. As for the doctor, they got rid of him. Deusdete disappeared again, with the body. Is that it or isn’t it, Luciflor? Tell me it’s true. You can tell me.
Was this how the story ended?
Luciflor became frightened at my excess of commonplace theories. Of clichés. She stopped what she was doing. Looked deep into my eyes. And cried like a lost soul. She was like a sick animal. Suddenly collapsed at my feet. Phantasmagorical. I dashed to get her some water with sugar. I was going to call an ambulance. Don’t you want me to call someone? Luciflor, let me open the windows. Turn on the air. Everything’s so stuffy, so hot. Forgive me if I ruined it. If I spoiled your narrative. I have a habit of trying to guess the ending. The outcome of a book, a film. Stay calm. Speak to me, please. What happened, then? Speak, woman.
She stifled her sobbing. The words died away. Then letting everything out in a single breath. Dramatic.
“I was desperate with terror. And with love. We’re running a risk, my son.”
And the silence between us remained. For a long time. You’re joking, making it up, Luciflor. Why didn’t you ever tell me this story?
ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTORS
Marçal Aquino was born in Amparo, a city in the interior of the state of São Paulo, in 1958. He is a journalist, writer, and scriptwriter for film and television. He has published, among other books, the short story collections Faroestes and Amor e outros objetos pontiagudos, for which he received the Jabuti Prize, as well as the novels O invasor, Cabeça a prêmio, and Eu receberia as piores notícias dos seus lindos lábios. He has served as scriptwriter for such films as Os matadores, Ação entre amigos, and O cheiro do ralo. His work has been translated and published in Germany, Spain, France, Mexico, Portugal, and Switzerland.
Vanessa Barbara was born in São Paulo in 1982, in the Mandaqui district. She is a journalist, translator, and writer, as well as an opinion writer for the international edition of the New York Times. In 2012, she was included in Granta’s The Best of Young Brazilian Novelists. In 2015, she won the Prix du Premier Roman Etranger in France for Noites de alface, which has been translated into six languages. In 2014, she was awarded the Paraná Literature Prize for her novel Operação Impensável. She has also published O livro amarelo do Terminal (winner of the Jabuti Prize for Reporting), the novel O verão do Chibo (with Emilio Fraia), and a story collection, O louco de palestra.
Tony Bellotto was born in São Paulo in 1960 and has lived in Rio de Janeiro for over twenty years. Guitarist and songwriter for Titãs (Titans), one of the most important rock bands in Brazilian musical history, he debuted in literature in 1995 with the novel Bellini e a esfinge, which was adapted for film and is being translated into English by Akashic Books. Since 1999, he has hosted Afinando a língua, a TV program that uses literature and music to discuss the Portuguese language and forms of expression.
Fernando Bonassi was born in São Paulo in 1962. He is a screenwriter for film and television, a playwright, director, and author of diverse works that include the novels Subúrbio and Luxúria, the children’s book Declaração Universal do Moleque Invocado, and a collection of short stories, São Paulo/Brasil—the last two were finalists for the Jabuti Prize. He is coauthor of films such as Os matadores, Carandiru—winner of the TAM Brazilian Cinema Prize for best adapted script of 2003—and Cazuza: O tempo não para, winner of the TAM Brazilian Cinema Prize in 2004. From 2008 to 2015 he created and developed, in collaboration with the writer Marçal Aquino, three seasons of the crime serial Força-Tarefa and the miniseries O Caçador and Supermax.
Beatriz Bracher was born in São Paulo in 1961, along the banks of the Pinheiros River. She is a novelist, short story author, and scriptwriter. She has published the novels Azul e dura, Não falei, Antonio, and Anatomia do paraíso, and the short story collections Meu amor and Garimpo—all with Editora 34. With Sérgio Bianchi she wrote the script for the film Os Inquilinos, and with Karin Aïnouz the script for the film O abismo prateado.
Maria S. Carvalhosa was born in São Paulo in 2001 and has lived in Rio de Janeiro since she was six months old. She is currently in the ninth year of primary school. “Panamericana,” in collaboration with Beatriz Bracher, is her first published work.
Ilana Casoy was born in São Paulo in 1960. She holds a degree in administration from the Getúlio Vargas Foundation, a specialization in criminology from Instituto Brasileiro de Ciências Criminais (IBCCRIM), and was trained in investigation and homicide forensics by US police instructor teams in Orlando, Florida. She acts as a consultant for TV and film series and documentaries. In the last twenty years she has dedicated herself to rigorous research into serial killers, taking part in actual cases with police, forensic experts, the Department of Justice, and defense lawyers. She is the author of Arquivos Serial Killers—Louco ou cruel? and Made in Brazil.
Ferréz has worked as a clerk, general assistant, and archivist. His first book, Fortaleza da Desilusão, was published in 1997, and in 2000, with the publication of Capão Pecado, he turned to writing full time. He is the author of the novels Manual prático do ódio, Deus foi almoçar, and two short story collections: Ninguém é inocente em São Paulo and Cronista de um tempo ruim. His story “Os inimigos não levam flores” was adapted for TV, and he wrote for the film Bróders and for the Fox serials Cidade dos Homens and 9MM. He was also a scriptwriter for the series 171 on the Universal channel. He continues to work as an editorial consultant for Le Monde Diplomatique Brasil and has a blog and a YouTube channel dealing with militancy and culture of the periphery.
Marcelino Freire was born in 1967 in Sertânia, Pernambuco, Brazil. He currently resides in São Paulo, having moved from Recife in 1991. He lived for a time in Guaianazes, in São Paulo’s East Zone, the setting of his story in this book. He is the author of the short story collections Angu de sangue and Contos negreiros—for which he won the Jabuti Prize for Best Book of Short Stories in 2006; and the novel Nossos ossos, which won the Machado de Assis Prize in 2014. He is the creator of Balada Literária, an event held annually in the São Paulo district of Vila Madalena since 2006.
Clifford E. Landers has introduced over two dozen Brazilian authors to English-speaking readers. The more than thirty novels and one hundred–plus short stories he has translated from Portuguese include such acclaimed writers as Rubem Fonseca, Jorge Amado, Nélida Piñon, and Patrícia Melo. He is a recipient of a prose translation grant from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Mario Ferreira Award. He and his wife, Vasda Bonafini Landers, reside in Naples, Florida.
Olivia Maia was first published in 2006 with the novella Desumano. She is the author of two self-published books, Operação P-2 and Segunda mão, as well as two books of crime stories. Her most recent novel, A última expedição, was sponsored by the Petrobras Cultural Program. In August 2013, she resigned from her job as a teacher and left São Paulo with only a backpack. After two years and two pairs of boots between Patagonia and the Alps, she settled in the interior of Bahia, in the city of Lençóis, where she teaches classes for children, bathes in the river, and writes.
Marcelo Rubens Paiva i
s a writer, scriptwriter, and playwright. He was born in São Paulo in 1959 and studied at the School of Communications and Arts in the University in São Paulo, pursued a master’s degree in literary theory at Unicamp, and was a Knight Journalism Fellow at Stanford University. He is the author of the novels Feliz ano velho (winner of the Jabuti Prize in 1982), Blecaute, Ua:bari, Bala na agulha, Não és tu, Brasil, Malu de bicicleta, A segunda vez que te conheci, and Ainda estou aqui. He has been translated into English, Spanish, French, Italian, German, and Czech, and he has written scripts for Rede Globo and the Multishow channel, as well as for films and documentaries. He is currently a columnist for the newspaper O Estado de São Paulo and the Estadão website.
Mario Prata was born in Minas Gerais in 1946, lived in São Paulo for thirty-five years, and currently resides in Florianópolis. He is the author of plays, telenovelas, miniseries, children’s books, and scripts for film and television. He has written fifteen books for adults, the most recent of which is Mario Prata entrevista uns brasileiros. Since 2005, he has dedicated himself to writing crime fiction and has published three novels: Purgatório, Sete de paus, and Os Viúvos. His work has been translated into forty-seven languages, three dead tongues, and thirteen dialects. He uses humor in all his work.
Jô Soares is a humorist, actor, comedian, director, writer, producer, and plastic artist. He was born in Rio de Janeiro on January 16, 1938. He studied in the United States and Europe from the age of twelve to eighteen. His acting career began with the film O homem do Sputnik, directed by Carlos Manga. In 1960, he moved to São Paulo, where he wrote and participated in the Dick Farley Show. He is the author, among other titles, of O xangô de Baker Street, a novel published in twelve countries; O homem que matou Getúlio Vargas, published in seven countries; and Assassinatos na Academia Brasileira de Letras. Since 2000, he has hosted the Programa do Jô, a variety show featuring interviews, music, and comedy.
Drauzio Varella was born in São Paulo and received his medical degree in 1967. Since then, he has been intensely engaged in clinical studies in the field of oncology. In 1989, he began providing volunteer medical services in Carandiru, a prison in São Paulo, which he continues to this day at the women’s penitentiary in the city. He is the author of Estação Carandiru (winner of the Jabuti Prize in 2000), Nas ruas do Brás (winner of the Novos Horizontes Prize in 2002), O médico doente, Carcereiros, Borboletas da alma, Janelas quebradas, Correr, and others. Estação Carandiru has been published in France, Great Britain, Australia, Portugal, and Poland. He has been a columnist for Folha de São Paulo and the magazine Carta Capital for almost twenty years. In that time he has produced more than thirty series on health for Rede Globo along with various works dealing with medicine on the radio and the Internet.
BONUS MATERIAL
Excerpt from USA Noir: Best of the Akashic Noir Series
Also available in the Akashic Noir Series
Akashic Noir Series Awards & Recognition
INTRODUCTION
WRITERS ON THE RUN
From USA NOIR: Best of the Akashic Noir Series, edited by Johnny Temple
In my early years as a book publisher, I got a call one Saturday from one of our authors asking me to drop by his place for “a smoke.” I politely declined as I had a full day planned. “But Johnny,” the author persisted, “I have some really good smoke.” My curiosity piqued, I swung by, but was a bit perplexed to be greeted with suspicion at the author’s door by an unhinged whore and her near-nude john. The author rumbled over and ushered me in, promptly sitting me down on a smelly couch and assuring the others I wasn’t a problem. Moments later, the john produced a crack pipe to resume the party I had evidently interrupted. This wasn’t quite the smoke I’d envisaged, so I gracefully excused myself after a few (sober) minutes. I scurried home pondering the author’s notion that it was somehow appropriate to invite his publisher to a crack party.
It may not have been appropriate, but it sure was noir.
From the start, the heart and soul of Akashic Books has been dark, provocative, well-crafted tales from the disenfranchised. I learned early on that writings from outside the mainstream almost necessarily coincide with a mood and spirit of noir, and are composed by authors whose life circumstances often place them in environs vulnerable to crime.
My own interest in noir fiction grew from my early exposure to urban crime, which I absorbed from various perspectives. I was born and raised in Washington, DC, and have lived in Brooklyn since 1990. In the 1970s and ’80s, when violent, drug-fueled crime in DC was rampant, my mother hung out with cops she’d befriended through her work as a nearly unbeatable public defender. She also grew close to some of her clients, most notably legendary DC bank robber Lester “LT” Irby (a contributor to DC Noir), who has been one of my closest friends since I was fifteen, though he was incarcerated from the early 1970s until just recently. Complicating my family’s relationship with the criminal justice system, my dad sued the police stridently in his work as legal director of DC’s American Civil Liberties Union.
Both of my parents worked overtime. By the time my sister Kathy was nine and I was seven, we were latchkey kids prone to roam, explore, and occasionally break laws. Though an arrest for shoplifting helped curb my delinquent tendencies, the interest in crime remained. After college I worked with adolescents and completed a master’s degree in social work; my focus was on teen delinquency.
Throughout the 1990s, my relationship with the urban underbelly expanded as I spent a great deal of time in dank nightclubs populated by degenerates and outcasts. I played bass guitar in Girls Against Boys, a rock and roll group that toured extensively in the US and Europe. The long hours on the road not spent on stage gave way to book publishing, which began as a hobby in 1996 with my friends Bobby and Mark Sullivan.
The first book we published was The Fuck-Up, by Arthur Nersesian—a dark, provocative, well-crafted tale from the disenfranchised. A few years later Heart of the Old Country by Tim McLoughlin became one of our early commercial successes. The book was widely praised both for its classic noir voice and its homage to the people of South Brooklyn. While Brooklyn is chock-full of published authors these days, Tim is one of the few who was actually born and bred here. In his five decades, Tim has never left the borough for more than five weeks at a stretch and he knows the place, through and through, better than anyone I’ve met.
In 2003, inspired by Brooklyn’s unique and glorious mix of cultures, Tim and I set out to explore New York City’s largest borough in book form, in a way that would ring true to local residents. Tim loves his home borough despite its flagrant flaws, and was easily seduced by the concept of working with Akashic to try and portray its full human breadth.
He first proposed a series of books, each one set in a different neighborhood, whether it be Bay Ridge, Williamsburg, Park Slope, Fort Greene, Bed-Stuy, or Canarsie. It was an exciting idea, but it’s hard enough to publish a single book, let alone commit to a full series. After we considered various other possibilities, Tim came upon the idea of a fiction anthology organized by neighborhood, each one represented by a different author. We were looking for stylistic diversity, so we focused on “noir,” and defined it in the broadest sense: we wanted stories of tragic, soulful struggle against all odds, characters slipping, no redemption in sight.
Conventional wisdom dictates that literary anthologies don’t sell well, but this idea was too good to resist—it seemed the perfect form for exploring the whole borough, and we got to work soliciting stories. We batted around book titles, including Under the Hood, before settling on Brooklyn Noir. The volume came together beautifully and was a surprise hit for Akashic, quickly selling through multiple printings and winning awards. (See pages 548–550 for a full list of prizes garnered by stories originally published in the Noir Series.)
Having seen nearly every American city, large and small, through the windows of a van or tour bus, I have developed a deep fondness for their idiosyncrasies. So for me it was easy logic to ta
ke the model of Brooklyn Noir—sketching out dark urban corners through neighborhood-based short fiction—and extend it to other cities. Soon came Chicago Noir, San Francisco Noir, and London Noir (our first of many overseas locations). Selecting the right editor to curate each book has been the most important decision we make before assembling it. It’s a welcome challenge because writers are often enamored of their hometowns, and many are seduced by the urban landscape’s rough edges. The generous support of literary superheroes like George Pelecanos, Laura Lippman, Dennis Lehane, and Joyce Carol Oates, all of whom have edited series volumes, has been critical.
There are now fifty-nine books in the Noir Series. Forty of them are from American locales. As of this writing, a total of 787 authors have contributed 917 stories to the series and helped Akashic to stay afloat during perilous economic times. By publishing six to eight new volumes in the Noir Series every year, we have provided a steady venue for short stories, which have in recent times struggled with diminishing popularity. Akashic’s commitment to the short story has been rewarded by the many authors—of both great stature and great obscurity—who have allowed us to publish their work in the series for a nominal fee.
I am particularly indebted to all sixty-seven editors who have cumulatively upheld a high editorial standard across the series. The series would never have gotten this far without rigorous quality control. There also couldn’t be a Noir Series without my devoted and tireless (if occasionally irreverent) staff led by Johanna Ingalls, Ibrahim Ahmad, and Aaron Petrovich.
* * *
This volume serves up a top-shelf selection of stories from the series set in the United States. USA Noir only scratches the surface, however, and every single volume has more gems on offer.
When I set out to compile USA Noir, I was delighted by the immediate positive responses from nearly every author I contacted. The only author on my initial invitation list who isn’t included here is one I couldn’t track down: the publisher explained to me that the writer was “literally on the run.” While I’m disappointed that we can’t include the story, the circumstance is true to the Noir Series spirit.