In Search of Hidden Histories: A Conversation with Rafael Reyes-Ruiz
Javier Zamudio
Rafael Reyes-Ruiz, who writes in both Spanish and English, has lived a life spanning Colombia, Japan, the United States, and Dubai. He is the author of The Ruins, The Shape of Things, The Samurai, and The Inheritance, along with their Spanish language versions. As part of a cohort of Colombian writers creating beyond their homeland, he stands alongside others such as Jaime Manrique, Andrés Felipe Solano, and Humberto Ballesteros.
Reyes-Ruiz possesses a precise, minimalist prose, which he skillfully employs to construct narrative mechanisms capable of guiding the reader through poignant and human stories that plumb the depths of their characters. His latest book, Extended Family, has just been published by La Pereza. The Spanish version will be released in the first trimester of 2024 by Sudaquia Editores.
In this novel, as with The Inheritance, a family heirloom—a bargueño, a Spanish colonial chest or cabinet with drawers—takes center stage in the narrative. This piece of furniture extends its roots to connect the past with the present. Threads of a secret that transforms the life of the main character intertwine through the theft and recovery of this object. I spoke with Reyes-Ruiz about his narrative preoccupations and the experience of writing outside of Colombia, delving into the themes of both The Inheritance and Extended Family.
JAVIER ZAMUDIO: Extended Family is related to The Inheritance, published in 2021 by Jade Publishing, through various common features, such as characters and also a bargueño. Why the decision to connect these two stories?
RAFAEL REYES-RUIZ: It wasn’t exactly a decision. Instead, it developed organically as I progressed through the middle of The Inheritance. I realized that the story of the bargueño within the novel was unfolding in several directions, opening new doors that demanded exploration. I needed to write another novel to accommodate these unexpected perspectives and follow the thread of these emerging narratives. On the other hand, I was clear from the beginning that Extended Family wouldn’t be a conventional sequel. The vision was to create a New York novel, paying homage to my graduate school years in that city, intertwining various stories, some related to my own life and my maternal grandfather’s legacy. This is how the old bargueño found its place. This novel, in a way, is personal, with autobiographical threads woven into a framework of fiction. Another feature shared by both novels is the unfolding family tree and the search for the secret history of the bargueño, which in Extended Family undergoes a transformative power that directly influences the writing of the text itself.
ZAMUDIO: This colonial furniture piece holds significant value in the novel not only due to its status as a valuable heirloom but also because it is deeply embedded with sentimental and emotional associations within the family. It serves as a link to the family’s origins. What personal connection do you have with this object? Why did you choose to incorporate a bargueño?
REYES-RUIZ: My maternal grandfather, along with one aunt and one uncle, were masters of taracea marquetry and skilled antique restorers, crafting beautiful and high-quality bargueños. These pieces have always captivated me, as they carry a rich history originating from Syria and Al-Andalus before making their way to the New World. They are pieces of furniture that encapsulate their own stories, meticulously crafted with taracea marquetry that features diverse materials and intricate engravings on bone veneers. By design, they can be both useful and decorative pieces of furniture, although they can also harbor undisclosed mysteries in their design or in secret compartments. As objects for sale, they can be antiques, replicas, or frauds. The inspiration to weave stories around a bargueño came during a conversation with a taracea marquetry master in Granada, Spain, during a summer vacation, which I incorporated into the novel. During the conversation, I mentioned that the bargueño he had for sale in his shop was very similar to one made by my grandfather. To which he jokingly replied that in that case we were from the same family. From that encounter, I embarked on an investigation into the history of my maternal family, using it as the foundation for weaving the plot of The Inheritance and Extended Family.
ZAMUDIO: After reading your last two novels, there is a sense that they are influenced by a common preoccupation, which may even be present in your other narrative works. Is there a connection between this narrative project and your previous works? How do you transition from those initial books to the themes you address in Extended Family?
REYES-RUIZ: All my novels are interconnected, although each one unfolds independently. The first three, known as the Roppongi Trilogy, share narrative threads related to human trafficking in Japan and are partially set in that country. The stories are based, in part, on my fieldwork as an anthropologist in the 1990s but were mostly written in Dubai a decade or so later. The Inheritance, set in Dubai, and Extended Family, set in New York, reintroduce a character, Professor Rodrigues, the protagonist of The Ruins, my first novel, in a minor but significant role, as in the other first two in the trilogy. The next novel, which I finished a few months ago, tentatively titled The Mechanism of the Universe, picks up some of the narrative threads of those two novels, particularly the family heirlooms, but now in different contexts and with different perspectives.
ZAMUDIO: Extended Family and The Inheritance not only intertwine through the narrative, but they also converge on shared preoccupations and fascinations, addressing themes like migration and aspects related to language. What has it meant to live and write outside of Colombia? Do you consider yourself a Colombian writer?
REYES-RUIZ: Yes, I consider myself a Colombian writer despite living abroad. That identity is reflected in my novels through the exploration of various aspects, particularly those related to migration and language. These subjects are addressed, in one way or another, in almost all of my work, especially in The Shape of Things, a kind of coming-of-age novel. From the age of eighteen and for various reasons, I have lived in several countries in North America, Europe, Asia, and even Australia, adapting to new realities and environments. Since my work and daily life were entirely in English, I read very little in Spanish, apart from the occasional novel on vacation, and wrote no more than a few sentences in that language. At that time, I had read more literature in English than in Spanish. It’s not that I had lost my language or identity; they simply became secondary for a while. When I finally convinced myself, about fifteen years ago, that it was time to write my first novel, I attempted to write in English but struggled to find the intended voice. Switching to Spanish felt more comfortable, though not perfect. From my second novel onwards, I began writing the Spanish and English versions more or less at the same time. I first write the draft in Spanish, then create the English version. During this process, I edit both versions, assessing what might be missing in each language. It’s a somewhat complicated process, but it reflects how I live my literary life. It reflects my commitment to connect with a broader audience and share my stories with readers in both languages. In doing so, I embrace my identity as a Latinx writer, a perspective directly explored in Extended Family.
RAFAEL REYES-RUIZ: It wasn’t exactly a decision. Instead, it developed organically as I progressed through the middle of The Inheritance. I realized that the story of the bargueño within the novel was unfolding in several directions, opening new doors that demanded exploration. I needed to write another novel to accommodate these unexpected perspectives and follow the thread of these emerging narratives. On the other hand, I was clear from the beginning that Extended Family wouldn’t be a conventional sequel. The vision was to create a New York novel, paying homage to my graduate school years in that city, intertwining various stories, some related to my own life and my maternal grandfather’s legacy. This is how the old bargueño found its place. This novel, in a way, is personal, with autobiographical threads woven into a framework of fiction. Another feature shared by both novels is the unfolding family tree and the search for the secret history of the bargueño, which in Extended Family undergoes a transformative power that directly influences the writing of the text itself.
ZAMUDIO: This colonial furniture piece holds significant value in the novel not only due to its status as a valuable heirloom but also because it is deeply embedded with sentimental and emotional associations within the family. It serves as a link to the family’s origins. What personal connection do you have with this object? Why did you choose to incorporate a bargueño?
REYES-RUIZ: My maternal grandfather, along with one aunt and one uncle, were masters of taracea marquetry and skilled antique restorers, crafting beautiful and high-quality bargueños. These pieces have always captivated me, as they carry a rich history originating from Syria and Al-Andalus before making their way to the New World. They are pieces of furniture that encapsulate their own stories, meticulously crafted with taracea marquetry that features diverse materials and intricate engravings on bone veneers. By design, they can be both useful and decorative pieces of furniture, although they can also harbor undisclosed mysteries in their design or in secret compartments. As objects for sale, they can be antiques, replicas, or frauds. The inspiration to weave stories around a bargueño came during a conversation with a taracea marquetry master in Granada, Spain, during a summer vacation, which I incorporated into the novel. During the conversation, I mentioned that the bargueño he had for sale in his shop was very similar to one made by my grandfather. To which he jokingly replied that in that case we were from the same family. From that encounter, I embarked on an investigation into the history of my maternal family, using it as the foundation for weaving the plot of The Inheritance and Extended Family.
ZAMUDIO: After reading your last two novels, there is a sense that they are influenced by a common preoccupation, which may even be present in your other narrative works. Is there a connection between this narrative project and your previous works? How do you transition from those initial books to the themes you address in Extended Family?
REYES-RUIZ: All my novels are interconnected, although each one unfolds independently. The first three, known as the Roppongi Trilogy, share narrative threads related to human trafficking in Japan and are partially set in that country. The stories are based, in part, on my fieldwork as an anthropologist in the 1990s but were mostly written in Dubai a decade or so later. The Inheritance, set in Dubai, and Extended Family, set in New York, reintroduce a character, Professor Rodrigues, the protagonist of The Ruins, my first novel, in a minor but significant role, as in the other first two in the trilogy. The next novel, which I finished a few months ago, tentatively titled The Mechanism of the Universe, picks up some of the narrative threads of those two novels, particularly the family heirlooms, but now in different contexts and with different perspectives.
ZAMUDIO: Extended Family and The Inheritance not only intertwine through the narrative, but they also converge on shared preoccupations and fascinations, addressing themes like migration and aspects related to language. What has it meant to live and write outside of Colombia? Do you consider yourself a Colombian writer?
REYES-RUIZ: Yes, I consider myself a Colombian writer despite living abroad. That identity is reflected in my novels through the exploration of various aspects, particularly those related to migration and language. These subjects are addressed, in one way or another, in almost all of my work, especially in The Shape of Things, a kind of coming-of-age novel. From the age of eighteen and for various reasons, I have lived in several countries in North America, Europe, Asia, and even Australia, adapting to new realities and environments. Since my work and daily life were entirely in English, I read very little in Spanish, apart from the occasional novel on vacation, and wrote no more than a few sentences in that language. At that time, I had read more literature in English than in Spanish. It’s not that I had lost my language or identity; they simply became secondary for a while. When I finally convinced myself, about fifteen years ago, that it was time to write my first novel, I attempted to write in English but struggled to find the intended voice. Switching to Spanish felt more comfortable, though not perfect. From my second novel onwards, I began writing the Spanish and English versions more or less at the same time. I first write the draft in Spanish, then create the English version. During this process, I edit both versions, assessing what might be missing in each language. It’s a somewhat complicated process, but it reflects how I live my literary life. It reflects my commitment to connect with a broader audience and share my stories with readers in both languages. In doing so, I embrace my identity as a Latinx writer, a perspective directly explored in Extended Family.
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