“I SEE a fly. A fly doesn’t exist, fluttering in front of my left eye. And I like saying it that way, almost a declaration of principles; I, Ines Experey, see a fly.”

This is how Time of the Flies (Charco Press) by Argentinian writer Claudia Pineiro begins. The novel delves into female friendship, motherhood, and the boundaries of crime fiction, taking it to new heights.

It features flies in various forms and intersperses the main narrative with a chorus of female voices in the Greek tradition of Euripides’ Medea. These voices debate concepts of maternity, sexuality, human relationships and feminism.

The story, superbly translated by Francis Riddle, is a direct sequel to Tuya (2005), translated by Miranda France as All Yours (2012). It follows Ines, an ordinary housewife from a conservative background, who breaks away from conventional patriarchal norms.

She’s released from prison after spending 15 years behind bars for murdering her ex-husband’s lover. She tries to rebuild her life by setting up a company with a friend from prison, “La Manca” (The One-handed). Ines will offer fumigation services while her friend and partner will work as a private detective.

However, returning to life after prison will not be easy for either of them. Ines soon realises that many things have changed since she was incarcerated, not only at a personal level but also in Argentina.

The feminist movement has gained momentum, leading to equal marriage and abortion laws as well as inclusive language.

During one of her fumigating jobs, Ines meets Mrs Bonar, a wealthy suburban woman who quickly proposes a troubling assignment that will eventually change their lives.

“I don’t kill flies. If you’re going to kill someone, there has to be a reason, a valid motive, a need to avoid some greater harm. Or suppress some pain. Pain is the greater evil,” explains Ines.

Time of the Flies transcends the noir genre. It is a story about life, death, loneliness, justice, revenge, hate, motherhood.

Sundial House, affiliated with the Department of Latin American and Iberian Cultures at Columbia University, has recently released a remarkable anthology of poetry and prose by contemporary Latin American writers.

The collection, Constellation: Latin American Voices in Translation, features works from established authors such as Ansita Grizas and Mercedes Roffe from Argentina, Ramon Hondal from Cuba and Monica Lavin from Mexico.

Among the standout pieces in the anthology are the beautiful poems from Roffe’s Mere Diary, skillfully translated by Lucina Schell. One, Steps, encapsulates the refinement of the poet’s voice: “then the way to begin / is to look back/unwalk each path / each shortcut / the injured grass where the foot has stepped / the track that divides and alienates it / from its other half.”

Lavin’s The Girl from Mexico, translated by DP Snyder, offers an evocative portrayal of the eccentric life and death of the Mexican actor, singer and dancer Lupe Velez in 1930s and ’40s Hollywood. It manages a captivating glimpse into Velez’s personal life and her interactions with notable figures in the entertainment industry.

Sundial House has also published Desolacion (Desolation) by Chilean poet Gabriela Mistral, featuring 37 poems translated by Langston Hughes. This bilingual edition includes some of Mistral’s most beloved poems and prose pieces, including The Strong Woman, which begins with: “I remember your face, fixed in my mind for days / you, woman with the blue skirt and tanned forehead.”

Another worthy of attention title from the same publisher is The Book of Conjurations by Puerto Rican poet Irizelma Robles, translated by Roque Raquel Salas Rivera.

This collection of short and exquisite poems draws inspiration from the periodic table, precious and semi-precious stones, minerals, rocks, flora and fauna of Puerto Rico and Latin America.

Robles wrote these poems to articulate her experience of depression and a bipolar disorder. A poignant example from the collection is Andesite in which volcanic activity and minerals are employed to express states of raw emotion: “Volcanic remains,/ stone that treads on stone,/ nobody that treads on nothing./ I’ve just been born from the eruption./ Andesite, only the smoke gives me away, /only the ash is content.” A must-read.