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Nowhere People by Paulo Scott

Nowhere People by Paulo Scott

Author:
Paulo Scott

Translator:
Daniel Hahn

Price: £10 / $15.95 (print), £5 / $8 (ebook)

Format:
Trade Paperback with French flaps

ISBN:
9781908276384

eBook ISBN:
9781908276391

Original language:

Published by:
And Other Stories

Publication date:
7 Aug 2014 (UK & EU), 9 Sept 2014 (N. America)

Winner of the Machado de Assis Prize

Driving home, law student Paulo passes a figure at the side of the road. The indigenous girl stands in the heavy rain, as if waiting for something. Paulo gives her a lift to her family’s roadside camp.

With sudden shifts in the characters’ lives, this novel takes in the whole story: telling of love, loss and family, it spans the worlds of São Paulo’s rich kids and dispossessed Guarani Indians along Brazil’s highways. One man escapes into an immigrant squatter’s life in London, while another’s performance activism leads to unexpected fame on Youtube.

Written from the gut, it is a raw and passionate classic in the making, about our need for a home.

More Information

  • To read an extract from the book, scroll to the bottom of the page.
  • If you had subscribed to And Other Stories before this book went to the printers, you would have received the first edition of the book – in which all subscribers are thanked by name – before it’s official publication, as well us up to 5  other And Other Stories titles per year. Find out about subscribing to upcoming titles here.
  • Paulo Scott will be visiting the UK and US in August / September next year, so if you are keen to organise an event at your bookshop or venue, let us know.
  • More information about the original Brazilian edition of the book, called Habitante Irreal, here on Paulo Scott’s website. The novel has also been published by the brilliant independent publisher Wagenbach Verlag in Germany as Unwirkliche Bewohner.

Advance Praise for Nowhere People

  • ‘A powerful, complex and very ambitious voice. In the contemporary Latin American literature scene, Paulo Scott is a must-read.’ Juan Pablo Villalobos, author of Down the Rabbit Hole and Quesadillas
  • ‘One of Scott’s many merits is to show daring, on many levels. Scott is not afraid to create one of the most interesting voices in recent fiction. And that is the voice of a Guarani Indian girl. Maína is far from the stereotypes of the “noble savage” that orientate our literature and culture. Maína speaks.’ O Globo
  • ‘Immensely powerful. [...] This novel tackles post-dictatorship Brazilian ideologies better than anything else in fiction.’ O Estado de São Paulo
  • Nowhere People is an inexhaustible font of surprises that the author’s firm hand manages to harmonise.’ Rascunho
  • Nowhere People is not your average book.’ Folha de São Paulo

Extract from Nowhere people

from Nowhere People by Paulo Scott, translated by Daniel Hahn:

The road sign read ‘Start of Roadside Indigenous Camp (Next 28 km)’, and Paulo has already asked her three times where she would like to get out. She limits her replies to the same gesture with her hand to keep on going. So this time, which was going to be the fourth time, Paulo indicates right,
pulling the car over in front of one of the huts. ‘Sorry, you’re going to have to get out.’ He articulates the words carefully and deliberately. She doesn’t reply. ‘I can’t take you any further,’ he says. She doesn’t budge. ‘Come on, Maína. You know it isn’t safe to be going around, just . . . ’ he can’t find the words, ‘just around like this, with a stranger. It’s dangerous.’ He gets out, walks around the car, opens her door. ‘You can keep the clothes. I just . . . ’ And she interrupts him. ‘Give lift to the city. Then I comes back alone, I come back, you let me.’ Well, Paulo, you begged her and now you’ve got what you asked for. ‘It’s just I can’t . . . ’ Without getting up, she says a choked please. Paulo looks around them, doesn’t see anyone, the hut they had stopped alongside gives every indication of being empty, no sign of activity. The girl is at a breaking point, weakened into an absolute conviction that she must run away and that if she fails at that moment she will end up in some other car or headed for some worse destiny. The moments pass, they are part of a test that intoxicates him. This morning when he turned on the hotel radio tuned to a local FM station they were playing a hit by Legião Urbana: every day when I wake up, I no longer have the time that’s gone. The same line that for much
of the journey he’d had in his head and which is now the imaginary soundtrack getting in the way of his making a decision. His clothes dampening, the rain propels him on. But I have so much time, we have all the time in the world. There can’t be many things worse than her spending the rest of her adolescence and her life stuck on the verge of that filthy road. His house in Porto Alegre is empty, his parents are away, his sister is spending the whole year on an exchange in the United States. He closes the passenger door, having resolved to bring her back tomorrow morning at the latest (that’s when the imaginary voice of Renato Russo starts belting out the chorus).

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