The swan song of Mario Vargas Llosa (1936–2025), Le dedico mi silencio, is a love letter to Peruvian Creole music.
“A vision of Creole music as the key to defeating prejudice and opening hearts and minds.”
“Society would come together in such a way that no one was beneath consideration and all were treated as worthy human beings. Progress and respect would reign … ”
We follow Toño, a scholar who has dedicated his entire life to Creole music, having breakfast at the Bransa, interviewing people, and doing research at the National Library in Lima, Peru. One day, he hears the performance of the finest guitarist he has ever encountered, Lalo Molfino. This performance inspires him to finally write his only book about Creole music.
Creole music and its great musicians were born in the filthy alleyways where humans shared rooms with rats, true miracles of poverty in Peru. “For those who lived in the alleyways, Creole music was synonymous with home.” Later, Creole music took flight and became a national treasure, beloved by people of all classes. Thus, Toño’s hypothesis is that Creole music is the key to uniting Peruvian society, and perhaps even all of humanity.
“And if such a thing could happen in Latin America, why not in the entire world, to the benefit of humanity as a whole?”
His thesis seems proven by the Creole musician couple Toni and Lala. Toni, from a privileged background, against all odds marries Lala, who comes from a disadvantaged one. They remain married and content until their deaths, bound together by the glue of Creole music.
However, Toño himself allows Creole music to come between him and his wife. His own marriage becomes an antithesis to his ideal. I like how Toni gently reminds him:
“What happened with Lala and me, that was exceptional. Love, you know …”
No matter how enthusiastic and idealistic the book may be, it is not without doubt or disappointment. At some point, Toño accepts that he will not see his dream realized within his lifetime. Now that Mario Vargas Llosa himself is gone, reading this novel feels like reading his literary last will:
“… this book you hold in your hands, reader, will be the starting point of a true revolution that will pull our Peru up from poverty and sorrow, restoring its glory and creativity, making it a place where all are truly equal, and putting an end to the sad divisions of its people.”
Reading this book as a musician, a lover of German art songs, and a song collector for the Global Songbook (Lutheran World Federation), I found it deeply inspiring. It offered precious insights and much to reflect on regarding the meaning of song.
The English edition, translated from the Spanish by Adrian Nathan West, will be published on February 24, 2026.
Thank you to Farrar, Straus and Giroux (@fsgbooks) and NetGalley (@netgalley) for the eARC.
P.S. Peruvians celebrate Creole Song Day annually on October 31. This national holiday honors Peruvian Creole culture, a vibrant musical tradition born from the fusion of Indigenous, African, and Spanish influences.