Familiar Setting

By Maivo Suárez

In this evocative collection, Suárez weaves together ten tales that delve deep into the complexities of family, exposing the raw, often painful underbelly of relationships. These stories navigate the murky waters of familial dysfunction, drawing readers into a whirlwind of nostalgia, unease, and a spectrum of raw emotions.

From mothers weighed down by recklessness, fathers marked by absence, to young girls turning to the shadows to find a way out, and spinsters retreating from society’s judgment into lonely existences – each tale is a poignant exploration of choices, consequences, and the human yearning for connection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889104179

Maivo Suárez

Chilean-Argentine writer Maivo Suárez is a social worker (University of Buenos Aires) and has a diploma in publishing (Catholic University in Santiago). She is the author of Sara, a novel that received the prestigious Literary Games (Juegos Literarios Gabriela Mistral) Prize in Santiago, Chile in the category of unpublished novel in 2017; it was subsequently published in 2019 by Kindberg Editorial in Chile and in Argentina in 2023 by Caballo Negro Editors. She has published a children’s book, Entre dos casas (2019, Libresa Editors, Ecuador); a collection of short stories, Lo que no bailamos (2016, self-published, in 2022, Provincianos); and Ambiente familiar (2020, Ediciones de la lumbre). Several of her short stories have received awards and are published in numerous anthologies. Jacqueline C. Nanfito teaches Latin American Literature and Culture at Case Western Reserve University and is also a faculty member of the interdisciplinary programs of Women’s and Gender Studies and Ethnic Studies. She is the author of articles in Latin American literary journals and has published several books on Latin American women writers: Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, El sueño: Cartographies of Knowledge and the Self; Gabriela Mistral: On Women, a compilation and Jacqueline’s translation of selected prose writings about women by the Chilean Nobel Prize Poet, Gabriela Mistral; the translation of the short stories (microcuentos) by award-winning Chilean female author, Pía Barros, Marks Beneath the Skin/Signos bajo la piel; and the translation of an anthology of short fiction (microcuentos) by Chilean female authors denouncing violence toward women, edited by Pía Barros, ¡BASTA! + de 100 mujeres contra la violencia de genero/ENOUGH! 100+ Women Against Gender Violence. Jacqueline’s most recent publications include the translation into English of the award-winning novel by Chilean female author, Beatriz Garcia Huidobro, Hasta ya no ir/Until She Goes No More; the translation of 70 poems by the Chilean Jewish author and human rights activist, Marjorie Agosín, The White Islands/Las islas blancas; the translation of Agosin’s prose poems about Anne Frank, Anne: An Imagining of the Life of Anne Frank; and the translation of the novel, Fish Hair Woman, from English into Spanish, Mujer pelo pez, by the Filipina author, Merlinda Bobis.

Book preview

About the Author

Chilean-Argentine writer Maivo Suárez is a social worker (University of Buenos Aires) and has a diploma in publishing (Catholic University in Santiago). She is the author of Sara, a novel that received the prestigious Literary Games (Juegos Literarios Gabriela Mistral) Prize in Santiago, Chile in the category of unpublished novel in 2017; it was subsequently published in 2019 by Kindberg Editorial in Chile and in Argentina in 2023 by Caballo Negro Editors.

She has published a children’s book, Entre dos casas (2019, Libresa Editors, Ecuador); a collection of short stories, Lo que no bailamos (2016, self-published, in 2022, Provincianos); and Ambiente familiar (2020, Ediciones de la lumbre). Several of her short stories have received awards and are published in numerous anthologies.

Jacqueline C. Nanfito teaches Latin American Literature and Culture at Case Western Reserve University and is also a faculty member of the interdisciplinary programs of Women’s and Gender Studies and Ethnic Studies. She is the author of articles in Latin American literary journals and has published several books on Latin American women writers: Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, El sueño: Cartographies of Knowledge and the Self; Gabriela Mistral: On Women, a compilation and Jacqueline’s translation of selected prose writings about women by the Chilean Nobel Prize Poet, Gabriela Mistral; the translation of the short stories (microcuentos) by award-winning Chilean female author, Pía Barros, Marks Beneath the Skin/Signos bajo la piel; and the translation of an anthology of short fiction (microcuentos) by Chilean female authors denouncing violence toward women, edited by Pía Barros, ¡BASTA! + de 100 mujeres contra la violencia de genero/ENOUGH! 100+ Women Against Gender Violence.

Jacqueline’s most recent publications include the translation into English of the award-winning novel by Chilean female author, Beatriz Garcia Huidobro, Hasta ya no ir/Until She Goes No More; the translation of 70 poems by the Chilean Jewish author and human rights activist, Marjorie Agosín, The White Islands/Las islas blancas; the translation of Agosin’s prose poems about Anne Frank, Anne: An Imagining of the Life of Anne Frank; and the translation of the novel, Fish Hair Woman, from English into Spanish, Mujer pelo pez, by the Filipina author, Merlinda Bobis.

Dedication

To my son, Nate; to my sister, Marianne, for always being there to support me; and to mis hermanas chilenas—Marjorie, Beatriz, Andrea, Angélica, and Maivo—for the inspiration that they have given me and their faith in my scholarly skills as a translator.

Copyright Information ©

Maivo Suárez 2023

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Ordering Information

Quantity sales: Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

Suárez, Maivo

Familiar Setting

ISBN 9798889104162 (Paperback)

ISBN 9798889104179 (ePub e-book)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023916944

www.austinmacauley.com/us

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers LLC

40 Wall Street, 33rd Floor, Suite 3302

New York, NY 10005

USA

[e-mail]

[phone]

Acknowledgement

I wish to express my gratitude to Provost Joy Ward at Case Western Reserve University for her generous support of this publication through the Expanding Horizons Initiatives funds, and to the Chair of the Department of Modern Languages and Literatures, Damaris Puñales-Alpizar, for her support and encouragement of my scholarly projects over the years. In addition, I would like to acknowledge the Chilean artist, Angélica Besnier, for her artwork on the cover, Light/Luz. It is an oil on canvas painting (130c x 130c) and is inspired by the Nobel Prize Laureate poet from Chile, Gabriela Mistral.

Holidays

Why run the risks if one can avoid them? Maca said after the greetings.

Saturday, the 18th. Midday. They were at the entrance to the house, and my wife tried to convince her colleague to go back to the street, turn on the motor, and put the car in our driveway. Meters from the door, I remained seated on the couch staring at the walls.

When they finally emerged in the living room, Álvaro, the braggart, dragged his feet as if it were a plush carpet. Imbecile. A drunken giggle escaped from Macarena, Oops, I had one too many, but it is only noon, and nobody has uncorked the wine.

The colleague and his latest conquest ran into each other upon attempting to arrive at where I was seated. Behind them I saw the children, followed by Maca, who grimaced at me—it is her second language—to shake me from the stupor. She advanced to within centimeters of the sofa. I stood up abruptly.

This is Enrique, my spouse, she said, addressing that woman who had come to our house for the first time. I inclined my head and amiably extended my hand, but Álvaro, in a hurry as always, greeted me, and in a mishmash of hellos, nice to meet yous, and kisses, I took the hand of the female guest twice, and two times, I glimpsed the strap of the bra that shimmers beneath the blouse. Size DD. Impressive. Macarena didn’t wear that type of clothing; transparency was not among the distinguishing features of her wardrobe.

I glanced at the waist of Viarly and her curves. So this was the latest conquest of Alvarito. The infamous divorcee with two children checked it out. They made a comical couple: he, tall and muscular; she, short and buxom. Macarena offered them seating on the stiff couches that ruined the living room and that no one used.

The little ones ran to the patio, anxious to see the turtle. I returned to my place. The colleague with a radiophonic voice spoke of a cold front for the next few days, the filling of empanadas, and that, at any time now, Christmas would be upon us. A lot of gibberish, of originality without precedent. He seemed nervous, accelerated.

Enrique, Macarena said in a hushed voice, and the telepathic look of an omnipresent wife told me the rest: get along, my love, smiling; offer pisco sour, be hospitable; fix the collar of your polo shirt, guy. Please, Enrique, come on, a little more effort. For Christ’s sake, Enrique, do something!

I responded to her requests. I stood up, stretched to appear taller, smiled like a gentleman, looked happily at the guests, and, complacent with what I saw, offered pisco sours. Elegantly, I walked toward the kitchen to search for the homemade sour; a half hour ago, I threw a bottle in the freezer. Another more obedient husband simply didn’t exist.

As I headed to the kitchen, I run into the children. Hey, can we watch TV?

It’s apparent that my two new nephews, between six and eight years—I don’t only calculate the size of brassieres—grew tired of the turtle. I rubbed their heads. Two warm, round, and soft heads. Yes, I admit it I thought of the pair of boobs that were there in the living room.

In the kitchen, I dampened the edges of four glasses, and I turned them over carefully, onto a plate of sugar. I was not sure why I imagined that the kids had gone back outside and turned the turtle over. I looked through the arched window. I didn’t see them. Upon the green clover-like covering, Luna dragged her monotonous existence, ignorant of the world around her. I felt cheated: I would have liked to have seen the face of the brats and the turtle upside down on its shell, moving its feet, waiting to be rescued.

I left the kitchen with the glasses on a tray. In the hallway, my wife took a child in each hand, and with a voice feigned by a kindergarten teacher, she told them about innumerable activities. In an ecstasy of patriotism, before September even began, she bought horns, kites, and some horrendous ocarinas of painted clay, and in an excess of bad taste, she hung a plastic streamer of small Chilean flags around the Japanese maple tree. Chi, chi, chi, le, le, le!

I offered pisco sours, and upon placing the tray on the end table, I saw the fleshiness of calves.

Did you prepare it? the woman asked and slowly uncrossed her legs à la Sharon Stone.

I am full of surprises, I repented upon saying so. I feared that Álvaro may rise from the couch with