Seúl, São Paulo

Tayson, born and raised in an immigrant neighborhood in metropolitan São Paulo, returns with his family to El Alto, Bolivia, the land of his parents. His cousin, the unnamed narrator of the novel, receives the returnee, who is soon submerged in... a process of assimilation?, in a search for the self and community identity?, in the longing for the lost Brazil?, in the desire to be Aymara? El Alto, which together with La Paz forms an immense metropolis, a crossroads of time, ancestral and modern at the same time, is the scene of that exploration that takes Tayson and his cousin through the sweet hell of puberty and adolescence, a journey of initiation that, to the rhythm of k-pop and Andean cumbia, runs between neon lights and pre-Inca monoliths, between a web of neighborhoods perched on gorges and the bustle of traditional markets. In the background, the futuristic and psychedelic urban profile of the cholets. We are in chola and indigenous Bolivia and, for this very reason, thrown into the whirlwind of the contemporary. Through a succession of miniatures of high poetic intensity, Seoul, São Paulo manages to place us in the place of impossible crossings and paradoxes, of the unresolved, of what he just doesn't feel comfortable in his own skin. The voices that weave this novel think, reflect, play with the words of the Spanish language, crush them in the Aymara mortar and extract a new juice from them: the juice of the literature that is coming, that is already here.