SONGS FOR THE FLAMES

Dark pasts catch up with the protagonists of this collection from the veteran Colombian novelist.

The nine stories in Vásquez’s second collection generally turn on a past lie or misdeed that won’t be easily put to rest. In “The Double,” a man recalls all but condemning a schoolmate to military service that winds up killing him and that death’s long aftereffects on the young man’s family. The narrator of “Frogs” deserts from the army just before a scheduled deployment to the Korean War, a memory stirred by a chance meeting with a woman he helped through her own crisis at the time. In “The Last Corrido,” the lead singer of a musical troupe is in decline but fending off a young rival replacement, exemplifying the tension between the past and the future. Though these characters are flawed, often unethical, Vásquez withholds stern moral judgment; “Us,” for instance, mocks the urge to find simple, satisfying answers for a man’s disappearance. As ever, Vásquez is concerned with his home country’s history, but the shorter form gives his prose a welcome tightness; each story (via McLean’s translation) is crisp and conversational. Still, he can infuse historical breadth to the short form: The closing, title story concerns the unfortunate fate of Aurelia, a free-spirited woman and one-time newspaper columnist whose family was consumed by the country’s 1948 civil war. Throughout, Vásquez paints a picture of a country that’s constantly buffeted by violent political rivalries, narcos, and war and where even bystanders get drawn in. “They’re sending us far away to get killed so there won’t be so many of us they’ll have to kill here,” a soldier cracks in “Frogs,” and that note of fatalism runs through the whole book.

A bracing set of stories about smaller traumas embedded among a country’s larger crises.