By Leonardo Padura

“A excellent novel. Haunted through the tragic tale and fervour of its characters.”—Magazine Littéraire

The first of the Havana quartet that includes Inspector Mario Conde, a tropical Marlowe. a tender transvestite in a stunning crimson gown is located strangled in a Havana park. Conde’s research right into a violent homicide exposes a stifling, corrupt society, a Cuban truth the place not anything is what it kind of feels. a gloomy and engaging global of fellows and ladies born within the revolution who stay with no dreaming of exile and search their id in the middle of disaster.

Leonardo Padura lives in Cuba. he's a novelist, essayist, journalist and scriptwriter. Havana Red has received a number of literary prizes, together with the Hammett prize in Spain.

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You recognize, it’s really easy to claim that, simply because reminiscence loss is one among this country’s mental traits. It’s a self-defence mechanism hired by means of many folks . . . everyone forgets every thing they usually constantly say you can begin afresh, this very minute: the previous has been exorcized. If reminiscence doesn’t exist, there’s no blame, and if there’s no blame, little need to forgive, you spot the good judgment? and that i comprehend, in fact I comprehend, simply because this island’s old undertaking is often to be beginning afresh, to make a brand new starting each thirty or 40 years, and oblivion is mostly the ointment for the entire wounds that are nonetheless open . . . And it isn’t that i have to forgive or are looking to blame a person: no, in truth I don’t are looking to overlook. I don’t are looking to. Time passes, humans go on, histories swap, and that i imagine too many stuff, either strong and undesirable, were forgotten. yet my issues are mine and no means do i need to overlook them. you already know? ” “Yes, I understand,” the count number spoke back and went into the backyard to ditch the cigarette butt and the ash accrued on his hand. He additionally desired to give up that shadowy detour within the dialog and go back to his stoop. “Do you recognize the place Alexis positioned his Bible? ” The Marquess checked out him with a bored shrug, as though the policeman’s endurance appeared in poor health, if no longer lunatic. “No. Did you are taking a superb examine his bookshelves? ” “It’s no longer there, that’s why I requested. ” “Well, seek me when you like,” he urged, and raised his hands and taken the count number to the sting of the abyss: his dressing dress virtually reached knee point whereas the buttons have been suffering to come back undone . . . “No, no use for that. i feel it’s time for me to head. I’ve nonetheless received paintings to do,” the count number spoke back hurriedly, and, seeing the Marquess nonetheless within the place of a prisoner ready to be frisked, he couldn’t restrain his laughter. “But I’d wish to consult you back. ” “Whenever, my prince,” the Marquess responded, and purely then did he reduce his hands. “One final query, and forgive me if I’m being indiscreet . . . What have been your emotions in the direction of Alexis Arayán? ” The Marquess regarded in the direction of the empty room. “Pity. sure. He was once too fragile to dwell during this merciless global. I additionally enjoyed him. ” “And why do you're thinking that he wearing Electra Garrigó’s gown? ” The Marquess appeared to reflect on a second, and the count number was hoping to listen to anything that may resolve that entire enterprise at a unmarried stroke. “Because it used to be a truly beautiful gown, and Alexis was once queer. do you want the other cause? ” “But he wasn’t a transvestite . . . ” The Marquess smiled, as though he’d given up. “Ay, you’ve understood not anything. ” “That’s my lot lately: I by no means comprehend something. ” “Look, don’t imagine I’m interfering, simply because i do know who i will be able to intrude with . . . yet as I see the topic pursuits you so . . . Why now not accompany me to a celebration this night the place it's possible you'll see a few transvestites and different so much interesting humans? . . . ” excessive on nostalgia, the count number surveyed the unchanging panorama unfold sooner than him from his workplace window: crests of timber, a church belfry, the pinnacle flooring of numerous tower-blocks, and the everlasting, difficult promise of the ocean, consistently within the heritage, continuously past succeed in, just like the damned presence of water all over the place which the Marquess’s poet good friend stated rather a lot.

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