- Read more about Haroldo Conti in our authors section.
- Southeaster was first published in English translation by Jon Lindsay Miles’ Immigrant Press (in Spain) under the title South-East after he discovered the (Spanish-language) book on a library bookshelf. And Other Stories’ 2015 edition of his translation is the first edition published in the UK and North America.
- Jon Lindsay Miles writes about his experience translating Southeaster for Bookanista. You can read it here.
- If you had subscribed to And Other Stories before Southeaster went to the printers, you would have received the first edition of the book – in which all subscribers are thanked by name – before its official publication, as well us up to five other And Other Stories titles per year. Find out about how to subscribe.
‘Southeaster is a meandering, estuarine version of a road novel, a watery Hemingway-meets-Camus tale of a loner exposed to the elements and in wordless search for some kind of purpose… sensuous and meticulously observed… a luminous and troubling South American classic.’
‘What a surprise and a treat. I was swept up in the great murky flow of it. Conti is a writer for whom place is character, not backdrop, and what a place, what a character. He’s a revelation.’
Professor John King, School of Comparative American Studies, University of Warwick
‘Readers in English can at last immerse themselves in the subtle, beautifully wrought journey of the voyager… Southeaster is one of the most original contributions to what Conti himself would term, in an interview in 1974, “a stylistically and imaginatively Argentine literature”.’
Times Literary Supplement
‘With his plain but indefatigably inventive descriptions, Conti conveys how “the river always changes”… In long winding sentences full of alternately subordinating clauses, Conti slackens the narrative to match the river’s pace… but Conti also knows how to make time buckle, and the last fifty pages… are exhilarating.’
‘Southeaster is a particularly rich evocation of interiority… organising a chaos of memories, observations, thoughts, and feelings into meaningfulness.’
‘Despite the obvious romance of the delta, of Conti’s strange, distorting setting, this is not a novel which romanticizes the lives of those who live in it. It leaves the reader with a savage beauty to contemplate, something contradictory, tense, and ultimately self-destructive in a way that seems to correspond with so much of Argentina’s recent history.’