THERE are books that stay with you long after you put them down and one of them is An Orphan World (Charco Press, £9.99), the debut novel from Colombian writer Giuseppe Caputo. Rich in images, registers and nuances, it's a book you can almost read as a long, lyrical poem.

[[{"fid":"16528","view_mode":"inlineright","fields":{"format":"inlineright","field_file_image_alt_text[und][0][value]":false,"field_file_image_title_text[und][0][value]":false},"link_text":null,"type":"media","field_deltas":{"1":{"format":"inlineright","field_file_image_alt_text[und][0][value]":false,"field_file_image_title_text[und][0][value]":false}},"attributes":{"class":"media-element file-inlineright","data-delta":"1"}}]]In it, a father and his son attempt to survive poverty by moving into a poorer neighbourhood near the sea, possibly somewhere in Latin America.

Sometimes they find strange improbable things on the desolate beach — broken clocks, used pans, a derelict sofa. And, as they devise hilarious plans to get by, buy food or pay rent, violence in all its forms will confront them wherever they are.