Argentinian literary powerhouse Selva Almada's stupendous second novel (after The Wind that Lays Waste) opens and ends in a deserted fairground where death claims two young men predestined to hate each other. Pájaro Tamai is "sprawled on his back," and not far away lies Marciano Miranda, "sprawled on his stomach, with one eye open," their youthful bodies losing their vibrancy forever.
While both men expire, Almada artfully, hauntingly reveals the inevitability of their demise. As boys, Pájaro and Marciano managed to be best friends despite their fathers' mutual hostility. The animosity bloomed when fathers Tamai and Miranda--the titular brickmakers--became viciously competitive neighbors. "Officially, the two men's feud began with the stolen puppy," when Tamai absconded with the best of Miranda's beloved greyhound litter--and turned the potential champion into a heinously tortured beast. Miranda never got over his brokenhearted disgust, severing any possibility of even civility. And then Miranda was murdered, leaving Marciano the 12-year-old head of his household. A 13-year-old Pájaro also became "man of the house" when abusive Tamai finally abandoned his family. Their poisonous paternal legacy eventually kills their sons--but not before the enemy fathers return as spirits, by turns poignant and taunting, to usher their firstborns into the beyond.
Violence seems inescapable throughout Brickmakers, even after its originating reasons have long been lost. While Almada exposes her characters' countless mistakes--arrogant, desperate, unforgivable--she also presents them with undeniable empathy. Paired once more with gloriously agile Annie McDermott, who translated Dead Girls (2020), Almada's breathtaking multigenerational tragedy is a haunting, unforgettable examination of the lasting consequences of careless inhumanity. --Terry Hong, Smithsonian BookDragon