Author(s): Alejandra Costamagna; Lisa Dillman (Translator)

Novel | Translated fiction | Chile | Argentina | Read our reviews!

"Readers will find themselves hoping for more of this bold writer's work."--Publishers Weekly

Cat sitter, insomniac, former schoolteacher. Ania worries she is a "stand-in occupant," a substitute in her own life. When she receives a request from her father to visit her dying uncle Agustín in Argentina, she makes the long journey across the Andes from Chile to Campana, where her family immigrated from Italy. Her trip, one she used to make every summer with her father, will be an escape from the present and a journey to the borders of memory.

What follows is an ambitious portrait of alienation and belonging, and of two families and countries separated by a range of mountains. Threaded together with encyclopedia entries, pages from an old immigrant manual, typing class exercises, passages from children's books, half-faded photos, and letters mailed between continents,The Touch System introduces Alejandra Costamagna as one of the most powerful and subtle writers in contemporary Latin American literature.

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STELLA'S REVIEW:
I was drawn to this novel firstly by the cover. Who can resist a typewriter? And then by the description of a story pieced together by encyclopedic entries, typewriter exercises, immigration manual snippets, and snapshot interludes. That it is also published by the interesting and excellent Transit Books and the author is Chilean all added to this one finding a place on my shelf. Ania is a woman, about 40, who is in limbo. She has quit teaching and pet-sits for a bit of cash; her father has remarried and has ‘another family’ — one which Ania feels ousts her from her place as ‘daughter’; and her boyfriend is a remote figure in this story — whether this is her perspective or a reality we never know. And this is what hooks you in — Ania always seems like she is looking in, but never really participating. Her present is something she wishes to escape from and her past haunts her yet draws her back — seems to have a hold on her. This is a story about exile and migration, about worlds cleaved between past and present but inextricably linked. It’s a tale of never quite fitting in — an exploration of what belonging is and whether it can be truly achieved if you are severed from a part of yourself (whether that be literally, as in physical space, or metaphorically, as in a mental state). When Ania's uncle Augustin dies, her father asks her to go to Argentina in his place (he is unable to leave Chile while his wife is convalescing). Crossing the mountains brings back memories of her childhood summers spent with her grandparents and extended family. Every summer she would spend months as the ‘Chilenita’ — her otherness the role cast for her. Yet she was not the only outcast. Nelida (Augustin’s mother), the young bride who came from Italy and never adjusted, spends her days in the cool of her dark room slowly subsiding into madness (or sadness). Augustin wants to escape his home but doesn’t have the courage to abandon his family, so faithfully takes his typing lessons and remains bound to his mother. He is enamoured of his friend Garigilo’s ease of being and infatuated with Ania. The reader is left to pull the threads together about the state of the relationships between these characters. It seems as though something has occurred that has had an impact on all three, yet the action, if there was one, has happened off the pages, beyond the book, and it is only a residue — an unsaid feeling — that circles beneath Ania. Returning to the town, the memories of childhood are both threatening and endearing. Here she has a role, she is the ‘Chilenita’. As she is drawn into the vortex of her own past, she thinks about her family and their life as migrants from Italy. Her childhood memories butt up against her adult knowledge. What allowed her father to find his escape, while Augustin was stuck in time and place? Why did Nelida find it so hard to adjust, and does she carry a similar burden? What is the way forward if you are an exile in your own life or mind? Costamagna’s writing effortlessly moves across characters and time. The typewriter exercise, family snapshots, and encyclopedia entries give the reader pause as well as context and are interwoven between the unfolding narrative at just the right pitch. The Touch System is a beautiful example of fine writing and intriguing themes — a novel that compulsively draws you in where you are at fingertip distance of something palpable. 
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Review: "Alejandra Costamagna's characters embody that semblance of truth that provokes that famous and pleasant confusion; the genuine miracle of literature: what happens when life seems to be inside of the book; when the characters seem so real that for a long and valuable second we become, along with the book that is in our hands, less real."-Alejandro Zambra
"The Touch System is a novel that condenses the virtues of all Alejandra Costamagna's previous works: a work in between memory and imagination, the question of origins, the recurrence of family and, of course, a stylistic condensation that is distinctive of a great writer."-El Pais
"A mandatory reference in contemporary Chileans-one might say even Latin American-literature... a literary voice that invites us to revisit our own lives with a new look."-El Espectador
Praise for Alejandra Costagmagna "Alejandra Costamagna's stories never cease to surprise: an acute sentence, a beautiful and precious detail, a scene that leaves that leaves you breathless. This brilliant collection is proof, yet again, of the singularity of her voice and her enviable talent."-Daniel Alarcon, author of At Night We Walk in Circles "Alejandra Costamagna writes with precise and lethal finesse on excesses. In these stories of obsession, pleasure, violence and illness, words are like scalpels that dissect trembling, furious bodies, sometimes overwhelmed by their own desire."-Mariana Enriquez, author of Things We Lost in the Fire

Author Biography: Alejandra Costamagna was born in Santiago, Chile, in 1970. She is the author of four novels, four collections of short stories, and an anthology of newspaper columns. Her work has been translated into Italian, Korean and French, and since 2010, she has been a member of the editorial committee in the Chilean independent publishing house Cuneta. She lives in Santiago de Chile.
Lisa Dillman translates from Spanish and Catalan and teaches in the Department of Spanish and Portuguese at Emory University. Some of her recent translations include Such Small Hands by Andres Barba, Signs Preceding the End of the World by Yuri Herrera, which won the Best Translated Book Award, and Monastery, co-translated with Daniel Hahn, by Eduardo Halfon. She lives in Decatur, GA.