I read the English translated version. I requested and was given an Arc copy of this book by Netgalley.

I did not fully grasp the topic of this book before O started to read it. It’s about the events that happen after a mute man is gunned down in front of his home by a corrupt military. The man leaves his wife and two young sons behind, who struggle to move on. The ghost of the mute man is viewing everything that happens and is telling the story. I enjoyed reading the attempts of the mute to protect and communicate with his sons from the afterlife. His wife is also pretty bad ass in some scenes. The story gives insight into the regular lives of people who live in a Colombian village controlled by a corrupt military power, very sad and frustrating. The writing was very entertaining and descriptive. I found it a bit awkward to read as some of the words were not translated into Spanish or the translated sentence sounds funny in English. Some phrases just make better sense in Spanish.

Hard hitting magical realism
—
In this slim volume is a world of ghosts and prayers, war and love, faith and despair. In a Colombian town so far off the beaten path that it doesn’t even appear on maps, in the late twentieth century, a man does his best to be a good man, but receives the wages of sin. Left behind are his wife Hípolita and his two young sons, Maximiliano and Segundo, as well as his ghost, and their neighbours and enemies, often the same person. Hípolita has had enough: she will speak truth to power and take whatever comes next.

in lyrical and charismatic prose, Romero brings to life Colombia’s terrible history with a family that lives—and dies—with every ounce of their being, in a world that rewards no-one. The father, the mother, the two sons, all so desperately love each other that they care so deeply, perhaps too deeply, that even death, grief, youth, are no barrier to showing how much they care. The ending is no certainty, keeping up the suspense right to the last word, and the world of ghosts and monsters is never too far away.

Four and a half stars.

Río Muerto is a powerful and haunting novel by Colombian author Ricardo Silva Romero, exploring the relentless violence and paramilitary control that has plagued Colombia. The story unfolds in Belén del Chamí, a remote town where Salomón Palacios, a mute man, is brutally murdered just outside his home. His death marks the beginning of an intense and emotional journey for his widow, Hipólita Arenas, and their two sons.

Overcome by grief and fury, Hipólita confronts the town’s paramilitary forces and corrupt politicians, daring them to kill her and her children as well. Rather than retreating into silence, she refuses to be another victim of a society ruled by fear and impunity. As she navigates her sorrow, she discovers an unbreakable resilience, challenging the forces that seek to control her fate.

What sets Río Muerto apart is its unique narration: the story is told from Salomón’s perspective, even after his death. As a ghost, he watches over his wife and sons, bearing witness to the cruelty of the world he left behind. His spectral voice provides a deeply poetic, mournful, and sometimes surreal lens through which the reader experiences the aftermath of his murder.

Silva Romero’s prose is both lyrical and raw, capturing the harsh realities of violence while also illuminating the strength of the human spirit. The novel is a meditation on grief, justice, and the thin line between life and death. It forces the reader to confront the pain of loss while offering a glimmer of hope through Hipólita’s determination to survive.

With its gripping storytelling and emotional depth, Río Muerto is a profound literary work that sheds light on Colombia’s history while delivering a timeless story of resistance and love.

“𝘐𝘧 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘴; 𝘪𝘧 𝘸𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰.”

Set in Colombia in 1992, Rio Muerto , translated from the Spanish by Victor Meadowcroft, takes us to the rural village of Bélen de Chami, a community caught in the throes of the country’s seemingly unending civil war.

The story unfolds from the perspective of Salomón’s ghost, Hipólita’s deceased husband, who was executed right outside their home. As Hipólita becomes engulfed in her grief, we learn that Salomón Palacios is an ordinary man who simply found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. His inability to speak—he is referred to as a "mute"—symbolises the voicelessness of countless Colombians who have faced senseless violence at the hands of local guerrillas. His murder sets off a tragic chain of events, drawing us deeper into their harrowing reality.

Through Salomón’s ghost, we follow Hipólita and her sons as she confronts paramilitaries, corrupt politicians, her husband’s murderers, and the church—each entangled in a web of relentless physical and psychological brutality. Silva Romero presents this poignant tale of violence, community, and survival with precision, delivering a narrative that is both chilling and profoundly impactful.

The family's ordeal is unimaginable. Hipólita - a name that conveys an imagery of liberation and freedom resonates deeply within the context of the novel - endures severe abuse, grappling with rampant misogyny and corrupt power. “𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦,” Salomón’s ghost tells their children. Romero’s darkly poetic tale is further brought to life through a haunting Latin American magical realism that feels both eerie and compelling.

Segundo, the second-born son, give us hope as he strives to be different and to save his family from their tragic fate. This complex narrative of this family who dares to challenge the status quo is not an easy read; as I immersed in the story I found the feelings of powerlessness it evokes to be quite overwhelming. Despite its difficult topics, this novel is crucial and necessary.

Thank you to NetGalley and World Editions for the advance copy. #pudseyrecommends

3.5⭐️ I wanted to like this book more than I did. But, I still had a good experience.

The story centers around a murdered mute man in the town of Belén del Chamí (a town so small that it does not even figure in the official map of Colombia), and how his widow and sons deal with the aftermath.

I liked the premise of the book, I think the story was told in a great way. What made me give it a lower rating was that I’ve read so many stories similar to this one that they somehow start to blend together.

That being said, I want to continue reading more from this author in the future.

If you don’t know much about Colombia’s history, I suggest reading the author’s note first. While it won’t spoil the novel, it will prepare you for the violence, and describe the background thereof.

Río Muerto is not here to teach you about Colombia, though. That, and the stories of all the world’s countries suffering from the after-effects of colonialism, is the reader’s own responsibility to learn. It does, however, offer a starting point to understand the country: not just the violence so often portrayed in mass media, but also the spirit of survival and renewal in the Colombian people.

As befits its name, Río Muerto is dark, gritty, and ghostly. It belongs on a list of great Colombian literature.

Ricardo Silva Romero's Rio Muerto, translated by Victor Meadowcroft, examines the effects of the unrelenting violence in 1992 Colombia's on its citizens. Belén del Chamí is a town so forgotten it’s not even indicated on maps. Ravaged by decades of conflict between guerrillas and paramilitaries with no respite in sight. In the 1950s and 60s those fleeing persecution came here only to be subjected to guerilla violence in 1975. The name Rio Muerto refers to the Rio Charm river, a river of death that’s carried away many dead bodies. Life is cheap here.

Salomón Palacios, a mute man, is murdered a few steps away from his home because he helped one of the members of the opposition move so he has to be a “rat”. His ghostly form also acts as the story's narrator. What he observes is his widow, Hipólita, a woman known for her courage and sharp tongue, descends into grief and madness. She abandons them for a month while she grapples with her loss, a period marked by near-starvation and a complete withdrawal from life. When she recovers she's a woman on a mission to make known to everyone who those responsible for her husband's death is. It's not easy since those in power in town are also the corrupt, whether it's the priest or the policeman. Once she has done this, she plans on killing herself and her two sons, Maximiliano, the strong and outgoing twelve-year-old, and eight-year-old Segundo who is fearful of everything. Hipólita sees this as the only way they can be together again as a family.

The novel points out the pervasive corruption, extending from local politicians to the police and even the church, highlighting the systemic nature of the problem. This corruption is not just a background detail; it's a driving force in the narrative, shaping the characters' fates and perpetuating the cycle of violence.

Through Salomón's ghostly narration the senselessness of the violence and its lasting impact is emphasised. He looks on Hipólita grapples with grief and the weight of her husband's reputation. He also observes his two sons as they navigate a world marked by fear and uncertainty.

“He floated nearby, like a moth fluttering at lightbulbs, overcome by a need to swear to them by the Lord and his angels that he’s had no idea they would actually kill him.”

Rio Muerto is an unsettling read: dark, atmospheric and filled with despair and a sense of hopelessness. Romero shows the brutality of life in Colombia as well as the resilience of the human spirit and the enduring connections that, in this case, transcend even death. An unflinching portrayal of a community ravaged by conflict, offering a poignant reminder of the human cost of violence.

Ricardo Silva Romero’s Río Muerto is a searing and poetic exploration of loss, violence, and resilience, set against the turbulent backdrop of Colombia’s paramilitary conflict. Reminiscent of Gabriel García Márquez’s Chronicle of a Death Foretold, this novel blends the harsh realities of political violence with a lyrical meditation on grief, memory, and the power of the unseen.

The story begins with the murder of Salomón Palacios, a mute man living on the outskirts of Belén del Chamí, a forgotten town that seems almost mythological in its obscurity. His death ignites a fiery reaction from his widow, Hipólita Arenas, a woman as brash as she is courageous. Hipólita’s grief turns into a desperate and defiant confrontation with the paramilitaries and corrupt local politicians who have stolen her family’s future. As she risks everything to challenge the forces that killed her husband, Hipólita discovers a reason to keep living: a fierce determination to protect her sons and honor Salomón’s memory.

What sets Río Muerto apart is its unique narrative perspective. Told through the ghost of Salomón himself, the novel captures an otherworldly quality that adds depth to its themes. Salomón watches over his family, his perspective giving the story an ethereal, timeless tone while highlighting the human connections that endure beyond death. Silva Romero’s prose is hypnotic, blending raw emotion with moments of poetic beauty. He paints vivid scenes of Belén del Chamí’s landscapes and violence, while also illuminating the invisible forces of imagination, hope, and spiritual connection.

At its core, Río Muerto is both a denunciation of systemic brutality and a celebration of resistance. Through Hipólita, Silva Romero portrays the strength of ordinary people in the face of unimaginable suffering. Her raw grief, laced with profanity and unrelenting defiance, makes her a compelling protagonist who refuses to be silenced.

Silva Romero uses his narrative to address the larger context of paramilitarism and its devastating impact on rural Colombia. Yet, even as it condemns violence, the novel uplifts the invisible threads of humanity that persist in its shadow—memory, imagination, and the faint yet unbreakable hope for a better future.

Río Muerto is a haunting and profoundly moving novel that masterfully intertwines the personal and the political. Silva Romero’s storytelling is as bold and unflinching as his characters, making this a powerful testament to resilience in the face of tragedy.

An enticing novella by Columbian author Ricardo Silva Romero, Río Muerto (2025) is a historic literary fiction tale narrated by a ghost. Salomón Palacios is a mute man in 1992 Columbia, when he is shot two metres from his front door. His widow, Hipolita, together with their sons Max (twelve) and Segundo (eight) set off on a journey, accompanied by Salomón who cannot intervene in their grief. It makes for difficult reading and is a melancholic reflection on violence experienced by ordinary Colombians. An almost poetic narrative feel gives this exquisite fable account a four star read rating. As always, the opinions herein are totally my own, freely given and without any inducement. With thanks to World Editions and the author, for an uncorrected advanced review copy for review purposes.

As is the case with many Latin American novelists, Silva Romero's prose has a hypnotic rhythm, an oral narrative, almost ballad-like quality, and all this to recount events of unspeakable cruelty, such as a father murdered on the doorstep who becomes a ghost to protect his derelict family and guide them out of the clutches of madness, misery and injustice. Not an easy read, partly because of the type of writing, at times too emphatic, and partly because of the facts narrated. A novel that lacks very little - perhaps a little lucidity - to be called a masterpiece.

Río Muerto chronicles the life of Salomón, a mute, whose senseless death leads his spirit to haunt the lives of his wife and two remaining children. Amidst the chaos of war, the small town of Belén de Chamí includes crooked characters and violence that will have you grieving alongside Hípolota and her sons.
Salomóns character as a spirit parallels the need to speak both in life and death, and has one goal once he is gone: to have his family leave their town. I really enjoyed the character development of the young boys, and how they had to grow up and take care of themselves, striving to live. Hípolota's grief broke my heart!
Overall, this book was so atmospheric and dark.
Thank you Ricardo Silva Romero, the publisher, and Netgalley for the book inexhange for an honest review.

This is a dense but interesting insight into Columbian history and the violence which has gripped many of its towns and villages. The ghost of Salomon tells the story of his death and its repercussions, poetically highlighting the victimisation of innocent citizens. My only problem with this novel is its writing style, which could be down to its translation, which at times lacked flow and was hard to get into. However, a good read for people looking for a short, poetic work of translated fiction from Latin America.

This was a complex story of a family in rural Colombia, who had pushed against the status quo. In so few pages, this weaves an in depth tale of corruption of an entire community and also the faults of every day people. Segundo, the second born son, is the only light, trying as he might to be different and save his family.

This story was gut wrenching. We are watching this story unfold from the perspective of Salomon's ghost, our MC. Things transpire that cause him to be in this state and those things cause his widow, Hipolita, to completely lose all sanity. The whole thing was a bleak and haunting look at death, violence, facing our fears and losing all hope. Set in Colombia during a very violent and scary time, when innocent people were governed and sometimes slaughtered by paramilitaries and the local authorities who either collaborated with them or simply stood by and did nothing. This book was previously published in Spanish. This translated version releases in paperback February 18, 2025. Thank you so much to NetGalley & World Editions for the ARC.

Thank you NetGalley and World Editions for providing me this book in exchange for an honest review

This book tells you from a POV about a family who lives in an area with corrupted government and church, and perfidious neighborhood. The father was killed by a powerful and influential figure who's in drug cartel and a pornographer. Left behind are the wife and 2 sons. Full of grief and enraged, the wife tried to faced off the corrupted people while the spirit of the husband was trying to speak to his wife to stop her action and just flew from that place.

This book was like a reminder of mine, for how much I love literary fiction with historical aspects and relevant.
It is like opens a window to my mind and see the real horror the Columbians facing for years and years even now.
I'm so glad that I'm allowed to read this book as it is such a thought-provoking book. I really recommend this book!

February 1992, and the rural village of Bélen de Chami is caught in the midst of Colombia's seemingly never-ending civil war.
When the mute Salomón Palacios is senselessly murdered by local guerillas, leaving a widow and two orphan boys, it sets in motion the chain of events that draw the reader inexorably onward.
His widow, Hipólita, is so enraged that she confronts his killers and everyone else in the village complicit in his murder, in vivid fashion like a thriller. Meanwhile, Salomón's ghosts watches over proceedings, in magic realism style.
This is a short but gripping and memorable book.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for this honest review.

This is an excellent, short book but full of tragedy, I would definitely recommend this to anyone who is a fan of translated works, especially from Spanish. The character development is fantastic.

This translated novel takes place in Colombia in the year 1992. We follow a mother and her two sons as they navigate grief and loss after their husband/father is gunned down in front of their home.

At times the book can be difficult to follow but it doesn't take away from the strong message it leaves after you finish reading. It's a novel meant to provoke the reader... what would you do if the government controlled you in this way, if they were the ones committing the atrocities? How would you react to losing someone you love because they did the right thing, that was wrong to the people of power? How do you grieve when the murder is an injustice? The author lays these questions on the table and as you follow the family, the answers that they give might surprise you.

I rate this a solid 3.5 stars. As aforementioned it can be a little difficult to read but it is an important read because these atrocities are still committed.

Thank you to NetGalley and World Editions for allowing me to read the eARC ahead of its publication for my review.

A testament to the power of the novel to inform, engage and move people.

Río Muerto by Ricardo Silva Romero tells the story set on the outskirts of Belén del Chamí, a town that has yet to appear on any map of Colombia, where the mute Salomón Palacios is murdered a few steps away from his home.

Told from the perspective of Salomón’s ghost, we follow his widow, Hipólita, as she is taken over by grief. She confronts the paramilitaries and local politicians, She faces her husband’s murderers. A brutal story about violence, community and life.

Precise, disturbing, visceral.

Many thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for the eARC.

3⭐️ After the murder of her husband right in front of his house, Hipolita sets out with her two sons to confront the killers. Her plan was to have them all get murdered to join her husband in the afterlife. Solomon the husband appears as a ghost throughout.

I found the story a little hard to follow and get invested in. It takes place in Colombia in the 1992 and highlights the danger and corruption in daily life for average Columbian people.

Thank you NetGalley and World Editions Publishing for the eARC in exchange for my honest review