The uncommon, elongated noun describing the mental state of the father is enough to remind the reader of Bernhard’s 1967 novel Verstörung — translated as Gargoyles yet meaning “disturbance” — in which a doctor takes his student son on a tour of his patients in rural Austria. It exposes him to a world of sick, brutalised and grotesquely malformed bodies and souls, just as the unnamed narrator of Senselessness is exposed to the haunted words of ravaged peasants. Inheritance is the bond. Where the son discovers that an escape into rational enquiry will not protect him from what’s bred in the bone, the editor will find his assured world of hard drinking and casual sex threatened by sentences emerging from what had once been silence.

His highly-wrought prose is consistent with a voice maintaining itself on an awareness of imminent breakdown. What happens on the doctor’s round in Gargoyles has a memorable impact on the novel. As if the son’s account has already succumbed to his inheritance, the second half is annexed by the monologuing Prince Saurau, an aristocrat whom father and son visit in his castle. For this reason, Castellanos Moya’s adoption of Bernhard’s style can be seen as more than homage. The editor in Senselessness is himself not all there; what we read is the inheritance of the manuscript.

“HermanoCerdo acepta colaboraciones de cuentos, reseñas, ensayos, crónicas, traducciones y textos misceláneos. También acepta colaboraciones para el suplemento de artes marciales, Golpes y Patadas, que comprende guías ilustradas de artes marciales y/o defensa personal, tips, artículos de fondo, calendarios de eventos y torneos, reseñas y cualquier tipo de contenido relacionado con las artes marciales.”

“HermanoCerdo accepts contributions of stories, reviews, essays, chronicles, translations, miscellaneous texts. Also accepted are contributions for the martial arts supplement, Golpes y Patadas, which features illustrated guides to martial arts and/or personal defense, tips, articles on the basics, calendars of events and tournaments, reviews, and any kind of contribution with content related to martial arts.”

If the martial arts tips have tired you out, HermanoCerdo’s eclectic literary offerings are just as exhilarating. Antonio Citron, a Chilean journalist and poet, recently contributed an essay for the “Stories and Chronicles” section about the experience of living in Vietnam. His bio states that he lives, “vagando y fumando cigarrillos taiwandeses,” or “wandering around and smoking Taiwanese cigarrettes,” but his writing showcases the insight he’s gained living abroad:

“Ayer, después de matarme de la risa en la cara de una polluela que exhibía su amplia cultura en un pub del centro de Hanoi y que contaba de donde provenían esos zapatos: “de Pekín”; de donde los aros: “de Bangkok”;…le pregunté: “¿De donde eres tu?”. La respuesta era lógica, pues, chicos y chicas, ella era “ciudadana del mundo”. La miré y solo pude decirle “¡Tu país es realmente un problema para todos!”. “Ciudadanos del mundo”, por favor, háganse un favor y abandonen sus derechos y deleguen sus obligaciones, disuelvan su constitución y dejen en paz a quienes estamos cansados de que nos clasifiquen así, solo porque erramos. Oceánico es lo que prefiero por oposición…Es al mar donde miro cuando me siento saturado de tantos ciudadanos del mundo.”

“Yesterday, after killing the smile on the face of a chick in a pub in the middle of Hanoi who was showing off her extensive culture and who was recounting where she got those shoes: “from Peking;” where her earrings were from: “from Bangkok;”…I asked her: “Where are you from?” Her answer was logical, boys and girls, she was “a citizen of the world.” I looked at her and could only say, “Your country is really a problem for everyone!” “Citizens of the world,” please, do yourselves a favor and abandon your rights and delegate your obligations, dissolve your constitution and leave in peace we who are tired of classifying ourselves as such, simply because we wander. “Oceanic” is the term I prefer instead…it’s to the sea that I look when I feel saturated with so many citizens of the world.”

Chile 3,778 books that its military had taken from Peru’s national library – more than 126 years overdue.

Chilean soldiers pillaged the library in 1881 after capturing the Peruvian capital, Lima, during the 1879-1883 War of the Pacific.