I’m really enjoying Charco Press so far, a couple of books haven’t been as good as the others, but as a publisher, I’m happily working my way through everything. I picked up Slum Virgin and The Adventures of China Iron in a deal, because the latter is nominated for the International Booker Prize 2020. I think I would of got to them anyway, Gabriela Cabezón Cámara is already my favourite author at Charco and has already rekindled my love for South American literature from embers into a healthy flame.

I had heard of Martin Fierro when I travelled a little around Argentina years ago, but despite my seemingly insatiable appetite for literature from that continent, it never hit my radar. My gaze was seemingly fixed on Brazil, Peru and Colombia, with Borges a mere nod to the proud Argentine canon. Part of me wanted to read Martin Fierro before this, a subversive retelling of that epic, but after reading and loving Slum Virgin by Cabezón Cámara I couldn’t wait, I dived straight in after reading a mini synopsis online.

We fall in with China Iron, Martin Fierro’s young bride after he is conscripted to to fight in the forts scattered around the Pampas. China Iron is picked up by Liz, a strong, clear headed settler from Scotland who is looking for her husband and land that they have purchased to start a ranch. Her young children are left behind with someone who can take better care of them than China can, herself barely more than a child. Only Estreya, a puppy accompanies her, as Liz cuts her hair and disguises her as a boy. They draw closer into a warm and intimate relationship as Liz lightly teaches China and explains the ways of the British Empire and in time they are joined by Rosa, a Gaucho who is herding cattle across the great pampas.

After a time they come across a fort, where they stay some time, secretly enlisting men for Liz’s ranch, and witnessing the discipline and pomp of military life, as well as the effects of when that discipline disappears after a few jars of liqour. It is here that Fierro re-appears in the story, and after a extraordinary boisterous party, Liz, China and Rosa move on.

Eventually they find Liz’s husband, and fall in with a tribe of native indians. China finds some independence from Liz and finds a new family for herself as the tribe takes to the rivers and finds a new seemingly idyllic way of life, free from the entrapments of the apparently civilised world.

I would be interested to know the reception in Argentina itself of The Adventures of China Iron. Fierro is not painted in the best colour, and I can only guess that there is a lot more play with the breathing, glistening sexuality of the characters as well as the landscape in this than there is in the epic. It is beautiful, and brings Argentina, and particularly the pampas alive in all it’s searing and sweltering glory.

What I loved about China Iron is that it feels like a strong fresh breeze into my world, and in particular to my world of South American literature. I loved Jorge Amado, Garcia Marquez, Vargas Llosa and more recently Bolano. And leaving aside they were all men, the elements of machismo in their books left me uncomfortable at points, it’s alien to me in a lot of ways, but the gritty realism, the unflinching poverty tinged with the touch of either magic realism and sly humour kept me coming back. With Gabriela Cabezón Cámara I feel like the door has re-opened, with a new light shining through, and though the same realities are there, it’s a modern view that means I can dive in once again.
(blog review here)