Half chic, half kitsch, half cumbia, half disappointing

Cosa de negros, by Washington Cucurto (Santiago Vega). 2nd. edition, Interzona Editora, October 2006

This second edition of Cosa de negros is remarkable for two things. Firstly, it is not very often that contemporary Argentine literature gets to be reprinted and is made available to the public again. This goes to the credit of Interzona Editora, one of a sleuth of independent publishers which is putting forward a fresh and opinionated catalogue that leaves no room for compromise (in fact, this is only one of two reissues released by the imprint in the month of October). The second thing this book is notable for is its choice of literary universe: in a literature whose mainstream has looked at the European rather than the American, the academic more than the popular, high and middle classes more often than the lower rungs of the social ladder and "high culture" rather than "popular culture", Cucurto makes a bold, original move by searching for a narrative and poetic voice in the ignored, frowned-upon voices of the economic, social and cultural outcasts.

Washington Cucurto is the writing persona for poet, editor and narrator Santiago Vega, as well as the protagonist of Cosa de negros, the second half of this volume. In this guise, Vega explores the underbelly of urban life, celebrating the "unheard voices" of porteño life: the cumbia scene, Latin American immigration, Plaza Constitución, the peculiar blend of languages that comes from the different dialects of Spanish and guaraní, and bucketloads of urban colour. His references are cumbia lyrics, Latin American culebrones, a hypersexed reading of bolero sensitivity and every conceivable glitzy cliché that has been overlooked or stigmatized by bourgeois society and, particularly, the cultural establishment. Cucurto is not about finding flowers in the dirt, but creating an entire jewellery collection out of the foulest mud.

Also, and perhaps more importantly, Cucurto casts the notion of decorum out of the window, and writes over the top overdrive. More is more, and much more is much better: a stream of blood and hormones, rather than a stream of consciousness, seems to carry the writing along. The results are original at their best, but when the formula fails (as it often does) it can be extremely disappointing. If nothing else, Cucurto gets style points for finding, trying and sticking to his guns - having said that, and noting that Cucurto´s imagination is second to none, reading a long story written by an author whose only narrative trick is stepping on the gas pedal and shifting upo narrative gears to even highter levels of sex, speed and gore can be a tiresome, repetitive experience.

This is clear in the distinction between the interesting first half of the book, Noches vacías, and the more disappointing second half, Cosa de negros. Noches vacías showcases Cucurto´s gift of metaphor, language and poetic achievement, serving image after image of effective description and heartfelt elegiac complaint from a Paraguayan cumbianchero who drowns his romantic sorrows in sex & drugs & cumbia. It is short, punchy, vital and pulsing, a breathless sprint of narrative that lacks structure but doesn´t seem to need it anyway.

This is not so in Cosa de negros, the second story in the volume. Cumbia idol Washington Cucurto has come all the way from the Dominican Republic to take part in the 500 anniversary of the city of Buenos Aires. The story begins with the robbery of the hero´s instrument and a mad chase across Constitución that leaves Cucurto burnt, beaten up, half-naked and minus a saxophone. From then on, things collapse into the bizarre: music, sex, fans, managers, musicians, Ferraris, a gallery of bizarre characters which pay homage to figures of the cultural underground (The Typists of The Sorias, for instance, is a reference to Alberto Laiseca and his 1000-page novel), a kidnap attempt on the president and anything else under the fake lights of the cumbia world. Yet, the deliberate lack of narrative technique, the purposefulness sloppiness and the spiral of sex and gore get tired after a few pages, and the story goes on but the reader either gets on the train or gets left behind.

Cucurto´s first filiation is as a poet, and this is where he made his first mark. As an editor, he bent the post-devaluation limits with Eloísa Cartonera, a publishing house that produces cheap books with handmade cardboard covers which are put together by scavengers. As a cultural figure, his signature themes and style have made him a trademark... at the risk of repetition and a prevalence of style over matter. But isn't that, after all, the essence of kitsch?

Publicado en el suplemento On Sunday, del Buenos Aires Herald, el 11 de noviembre de 2006