Just finished the advance copy in 4 hours. Couldn't put it down. Pre-order it babes.
"As Chile emerged from Pinochet's brutal dictatorship into a flawed democracy, Lemebel shone a light on lives and events many wanted to supress: the last days of sex workers dying from Aids, the glitzy literary salon held above a torture chamber, and the queer sex and community found in Santiago's clubs, parks and back alleys."
Love letters to travestis, of cruising and political uprising. I keep remembering vivid images from it, in 'night of furs' a cast of locas create a mountain of candlelit chicken bones that would go on to foretell the oncoming coup and dictatorship. In another story, a Loca loses her new brand shoes after hooking up (during curfew) with a circus traveller, and has to run home in oversized clown shoes.
When beloved Loba Lamar passes from AIDs, her friends can't let her die with her mouth open. "She can't go like that, the poor thing, said the locas, already calmer. She can't get stuck with her trap open like a hungry frog, herself so divine, so careful with every gesture and pose. She should always be remembered as a diva. Something must be done. Quick, close her mouth with a scarf before it stiffens."
I will be rereading this collection over and over. It is absurdist, high camp, an absolute ode to queer memory, to remember with rage.