At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig

One of the most isolated countries on the planet, Paraguay is never going to be top of anybody's holiday list, existing in a near-permanent state of surreal chaos and Napoleonic tyranny since being violently 'discovered' by the Conquistadors in the 16th century. A favoured destination for Nazi war criminals, Paraguay's political history is a complicated series of dictatorships, coups and shocking brutality, while their barely functional train network and the distinctive character of the people make it feel like another universe. No official guidebooks exist, and first-time author John Gimlette has responded by crafting a strange and sometimes fascinating mixture of travelogue and history, intercutting his various journeys around Paraguay with an in-depth and well-researched look at the history of this eclectic and peculiar nation. The lurid cover gives the impression of a light-hearted travelogue romp, but what Gimlette has delivered is a somewhat gruelling read that tackles head-on the appalling atrocities perpetrated throughout Paraguay's history. Keeping up an urbanely witty prose style throughout, the seemingly endless list of bizarre horrors and catastrophes finally becomes rather wearing, particularly when phrased in such a deliberately jaunty manner. Dividing the book into 131 short, staccato chapters hardly helps, resulting in a frequently bitty and unsatisfying tone, while Gimlette's style is better suited to the Paraguayan past than involving the readers in his meandering travels. Without a specific route or journey to follow, it feels more like a compendium of anecdotes, but the immense factual and historical detail keeps the book readable and interesting, while there's also a number of photographs (both colour and black-and-white), as well as maps and reproductions of period drawings. Anyone wanting to find out more about the strange, vibrant and bloody history of South America will find this a useful and informative read. (Kirkus UK)