ALTHOUGH over half of Brazil's population (approximately 56 per cent) identifies as black, which is the largest population of African descent outside of Africa, less than 20 per cent of all members of Congress in Brazil are black. 

Shockingly, black Brazilians make up 75 per cent of murder victims and those killed by police. 

Unfortunately, under the leadership of right-wing president Jair Bolsonaro from 2019-2022, the situation worsened. Police killings of black Brazilians rose to 5,804 in 2019, which is almost six times more than the number of police killings in the United States.

The Dark Side of Skin (Charco Press, £11.99) by award-winning author Jeferson Tenorio is a captivating story that follows Pedro, a young man from Porto Alegre, on a mission to find out about his father’s murder. His father, a secondary school teacher, wanted to make a positive impact on the world. 

The book takes readers on a compelling journey through different narrators and life experiences, exploring the harsh reality of state violence, racism, and complex family relationships in Brazil. 

Pedro pieces together the story of his father’s death from bits and pieces of information given to him by his mother and others. As the plot thickens, Pedro realises that he is not just piecing together the story for his mother or anyone else, but for himself. 

Bruna Dantas Lobato superbly translated this book, and it leaves readers with a sense of helplessness, revulsion, and compassion for a community that suffers disproportionately from police violence. This book is a must-read for those interested in exploring the realities of life in Brazil.

The Brush by Eliana Hernandez-Pachon, (Archipelago Books, £14) delves into the consequences of state complicity and paramilitary violence. 

This collection of poetry, originally written in Spanish and translated by Robyn Myers, presents three distinct perspectives: Pablo, a campesino with tired eyes, his wife Ester, who enjoys eating clementines on the porch, and The Brush, a personification of the natural world that speaks out in support of life and against death. The book examines the events that took place between February 16 and 21, 2000, in Colombia, when members of the Autodefensas Unidas de Colombia (AUC) killed 60 individuals in the Montes de Maria area, an incident known as the Massacre of El Salado. 

The book also contains an afterword by Hextor Abad, which provides insights into narrating horror.

In The Brush, the author successfully depicts the massacre through poetry, presenting different perspectives of victims, witnesses, investigators, and even the forest. One night, a woman recalls the tragic event in detail, likening it to a power outage and the sound of a rattling fan. She recalls how the bus never arrived when they tried to leave. 

This poignant account of the tragedy still resonates powerfully today, more than two decades after it occurred. “When what happened happened and they made us watch, it was as if Earth revolved around our eyes, as if space opened up between our eyes, as if lava flow erupted from within.” Breathtaking.

The bilingual poetry collection dear parent or guardian (Ugly Duckling Presse, £10), written by Venezuelan author Isadoro Saturno, is a book that combines irony and transgender sensibilities, challenging linguistic prejudices in a unique way. 

ER Pulgar has done an excellent job in translating this challenging work, conveying the sense of living in the topsy-turvy world that the narrator sometimes experiences. The book includes gender nouns and pronouns that change altogether. For example, the line “salga de esa nube/ me dice la maestro/ leemos mamá oso papa oso/ y los oseznos” is translated as “get off that cloud/ my teach/ her says/ let’s read mama he-bear papa she-bear/ n their cubs.” 

It includes an illuminating Translators’ Note about the choices Pulgar has to make and why. This collection is refreshing and original, offering a glimpse into a world where everything is named anew.